KRISTA VOWELL CLARK
I stumbled upon some mud today, while making memories, with my new best friend.
His fondness for cold, wet dirt, just never seems to come to an end.
Squishy feelings arose in my heart, as we rolled around vicariously.
He might be small, but he is quick; he followed me, right up a tree!
Mommy's probably gonna be mad, that we've made ourselves into such a mess.
What do you expect from a COUNTRY GIRL; I wouldn't be caught in a clean dress!
Someday I'll look back on this day, and laugh uncontrollably.
If not for times like this, how could I write poetry?
We begged, fearless Uncle T, to take us on an ADVENTUROUS RIDE.
Ali quickly grabbed the window seat; Ciara plopped down, by his side.
He floored it through a vegetable garden and knocked several blossoming bushes down.
Then zoomed and vroomed over concrete sidewalks, in one of the busiest parts of town.
While racing along a winding road, a screeching siren forced the car to a halting stop.
Uncle T was issued a hefty speeding ticket, from an extremely indignant cop.
Once home, Mother inquisitively inquired, about Mr. Wilson's, toppled, exotic tree.
Our precious faces looked virtuously innocent ... with the exception of Uncle T!
Haunting memories constantly play in the minut creases of my bewildered mind.
Fiercely fighting against demons that continously dance until my thoughts appear to have committed a crime.
Born with what they say is a chemical imbalance within my desolate brain.
Diagnosis proved, yet I curiously question, if I'm feverishly going completely insane.
Inquisitively I search within harsh memories, for days I wasn't constantly feeling CORNFLOWER BLEU.
Depression is a horrendous disease that keeps you from simply, just being you.
Rude, hurtful people pass judgement because their eyes cannot see within your wretched soul.
They are oblivious to the mere fact, inside, you're completely opposite of someone made believingly whole.
Medications have way too many side effects that grotesquely morph your outer being.
Toxic chemicals make you want to not believe exactly what you are seeing.
Counselors can flap their jaws until every single, mooing cow comes galloping home.
Unless you walk a mere mile in my dusty, rugged shoes, your inadvertent advice won't earn me a throne.
So exactly what, is a person to do, that suffers with this inescapable disease?
Straighten your crown, compose your mindbending thoughts and approach each glorious day, with ease.
KRISTA VOWELL CLARK