It's Weekly Scribblings and we're asked to consider the phrase "pulling your punches". I've spent a lifetime trying to curb my tendency to verbally punch first and think later, and learn to practice restraint. I wrote this poem ten years ago, but it seems to meet the challenge so well I've resurrected it (and updated my age). Submitted to Poets and Storytellers United, February 10, 2021,
I’m the queen of blunt, I shoot from the lip
I’m sometimes the queen of complaint
I’ve spent my life with a lesson to learn
And that’s to use a cup of restraint.
I don’t play poker ‘cause everyone knows
If I’ve a full house or a bust
They look at my face which is sure to portray
My excitement, hope or disgust.
I’ve been trying for years, ever since I was young
To get rid of this inborn taint
To master the skill of holstering my tongue
And just use a cup of restraint.
Time’s running short, I’m nearing the end
Goodness knows, I’m eighty-seven
If I can’t learn how to pull my punches
Do you think they’ll let me in heaven?