Howdy readers.
We are now at Day 10 of NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) and this ole wagon has no intention of stopping (slowing down a tad maybe but never coming to a complete standstill!)
Here is the prompt for Day 10 over at the official NaPoWriMo website:-
So today I’ve decided to write another motivational poem and this one is a heartfelt ode to those of us who get flak for being the nice guys, the ones who get chewed up and spit out in the circus of life. This one is for you and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise – nice guys (and gals) don’t finish last – they take time to enjoy the journey, it’s all about the destination baby!
“A Lightning Bolt To The Heart” by David Ellis
They say nice guys finish last
Why does everything have to be a race?
If I want to hold open doors, buy flowers
Pay women compliments for their endeavours
It shouldn’t be considered a disgrace
Being courteous is not a weakness
I don’t want to be cheap or fake
The power of listening closely to opinions
Giving advice straight from the heart
A lightening bolt to the senses in the confidence stakes
If there’s one thing that I hold dear
It is the determination to be sincere
I hold on to this value for dear life
It is my mantra that defines myself
It’s what keeps me going despite impossible odds
Maybe I come from a different time and place
My romantic ideals seem a million miles away
Yet to give is to receive far more potently
Never getting old, always better in each and every way
The exuberance of the process I enjoy to this very day
So what if I come across as quaint?
A relic from some forgotten past
I proudly wear my emotions out in the open
Wounding easily but still healing quickly when broken
A friend to those who want me to embrace them
I’ll be your shoulder to cry on, to the bitter end
The one that doesn’t give up, whatever the cost
In this perfect moment, all we have to do is look back
We’ve achieved so much together on this journey
Time to reflect and finish what we started
Your glance and your touch could move mountains
Where we both go next is an adventure in the making
To treat you well is a choice well worth taking
toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish) 
You know that ‘nice guys finish last’ quote is actually a misquote. That baseball player was on a team that did very poorly, and a reporter asked him about it. He really said: Nice guys, finished last’. It was just a statement of amused futility. Like, ‘what are you gonna do’.
A likely story!
He’s full of them and that’s why we love him.
I read an interview with the guy who said it… I think.
But did he really know what he was saying? 🙂
does anybody really know what they are saying… and of all the people to ask that… me… really?
Does anybody really know what they are saying? It’s a question I’m constantly asking myself, that’s for sure.
you are telling me that?
I am a mirror to your soul
a funhouse mirror… ha!
That’s probably more scary than funny
makes me look thin
You’re like a walking encyclopedia!
like a walking encepholopod
I rest my case
I rest my face
Hey be careful where you point that beard – it might go off!
yeah it might
Cos baby you’re a firework
I work that fire
You’re like a walking encyclopedia!
This is lovely! It’s really beautiful.
Thank you Janey – your comment has made me very happy. I tried to make it personal and I think it came off very well. I hope to come up with another concept for us both to duet on again soon.
It was adorable. You’ll have ladies falling at your feet writing like that. The most romantic poem I’ve ever gotten was a drunken chat up line in a chipper haha.
I would love to collaborate again! I’m off for two weeks so whenever you’re ready 🙂
A source of great amusement is a thoroughly modern miss reacting to courtly manners. She is supposed to regard them as condescending and insulting, but she laps them up guiltily.
Great point 🙂 This is probably why I am love with the old ways so much – I’ve been born in the wrong decade (or even possibly the wrong century).
I started off in the right part of the last one – but then it went downhill fast.