How’s That For A Nice Dose Of Irony?

I entered this poetry contest @ I decided that nothing but the best would do, so I submitted what I considered my best poem. I put so much work into it. It was about words. I built it up from a phoneme to telling how they cut like knives. Well, what do you think happened? Yep, they rejected it. They then told me that I had a limited amount of time to submit another one if I wanted to be considered for the grand prize. Well, I made up one on the spot. It took me all of five minutes.

Guess what happened with that?

It got submitted for the semi-finals. How’s that for a nice dose of irony? Here’s the poem in question:

Miss me, kiss me, love me

Hey, I’m just me.

Just lil’ ole’ me.

I’d like to be you,

sitting down as if right on cue.

Being rude to folk. It’s a joke;

a private one,

won off the backs of others,

that’s only understood by some,

But that I can’t do.

It’s ridiculous to think,

red, green, blue or pink,

would fit me.

That’s not she, this one known as me.

Just to get things straight, I don’t hate

the one known as you, the one who,

would sell her soul

for just a lump of coal.

Just like a naughty child,

let wild.

Stop yourself. Dismiss yourself.

Miss me,

kiss me,

love me.

Just don’t try to change this one.

‘Cause if you do, you miss half the fun.

© clb

It’s not my best work, yet the publishers chose this for the finals. Go figure!