A poem of mine, read by me. (I block users that flame. I welcome constructive criticism and dialog. If you're looking to be hateful, please go elsewhere.)Don't ask me why...Don't ask me whyI choose these tearsinstead of easy happinessI took the path of rightand did what I knewwould bring happiness laterinstead of happiness nowno one likes changeit's scary and unsettlingeven when the old you're discardingis uncomfortable, but familiarit's a risk and a chanceyou never know what will comeafter you've given upthe ugliness you were hanging ontoif you watch lifeand observe what is truethose that cling to the oldare not guaranteed anythingsometimes you have to discardthe old rotted shell of normalto find something betterI know better than to discard the good in my lifeand I willingly cling to what is rightbut I don't choose to stand idlyin the muck and shit, or the smelly compost leftby things that didn't workand continue to not workeven after I put in the effortto make them better.S. Elizebeth Turnquist

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