Pre-Christmas Self Pity: Haiku

My self-pity haiku a week before Christmas:
When you tried hard to/
avoid “Cat’s in the Cradle”/
yet they’re distant? Weep.

Don’t Save Your Breath: Revolutionary IMprov Prose

Through the years, I’ve had many friends, you included, who have told me positive things about me. They said kind, wonderful things, even when I argued with them, even when I didn’t believe them, even when it was obvious that I was exhausting them with my negativity and self-pity. They kept telling me wonderful thoughts:
I was good, I was smart, I was kind, I was important, I was intelligent, I was attractive, I was cute, I was an eccentric genius, someday I’d find my tribe and they’d get me.
and many other positive affirmations.
At the time these things were told me, I didn’t believe them. Sometimes I had to hear them many times, but finally I reached a place in my life where I realized that those things could be, might be, possibly may be, true. I accepted them, held on to them, carried them deep in my heart and my soul. They gave me hope. They prompted me and prodded me to keep trying, keep believing, keep hoping.
When I finally decided to take the leap out of self-pity and self-loathing, realizing that I could be someone worthwhile, the memory of all those positive comments came flooding back to me and substantiated me and reinforced me.

You face people who don’t believe you when you tell them how wonderful they are. It seems that you could repeat yourself until you are blue in the face, and they would never believe you. It seems like a waste of time.
So should you save your breath?
That fabulous, articulate, insightful, intelligent, kind breath?
No. Please no!

Christmas Perspective Changed: Revolutionary Email Free Verse Poem

T’was a few nights before Christmas
and I was feeling
sorry for myself,
seeing all my friends
and relations
surrounded by kids
and grandkids,
hugging each other,
decorating the houses,
trimming the trees,
making Christmas cookies,
fudge,
candy,
and other
wonderful
treats,
filling their homes
with the joyful laughter,
singing,
and sweet smells
of the season.

Then I remembered
what I had,
and who,
and arose out of my pity bed,
sprang to the kitchen,
pre-heated the oven
and made cookies
and my traditional
sweet-smelling apple crisp
for my mother.
Making cookies and apple crisp for Christmas