The Grand Canyon is but a mere trickle through lowly pebbles in comparison to how much I hate being told what to do. The poem below perhaps captures the greatest representation currently encountered, but the irritation can equally extend to being told how I felt about something; especially when the feeling in question is one I don’t particularly care for.
A recent example occurred after happening to see some musicians at a local pub; one in particular I’d thought quite outstanding and the next day commented on their social media post about the gig to say so. Their reply: ‘Glad you had a nice time.’ Continue reading
Poetry about the self and stillness in the modern world.
N. P. Ryan 