She is knocking.


I see you there, on my night stand you rest.

Upon the wake of the day, you fill my mind and chest.

You are not welcome here.

“What is your name?” I asked one day, “My name is pride,” she stated flippantly with a twirl of her hair and a lifting of her chin from her chest. She then boldly gazed up toward the sky as if the world were watching her every move.

She seeps into every corner of my life.

She sprouts her beautiful blossoms into relationships, conversations, and encounters. She deceives those whom I care for the most.

I see her roots in my decisions and reactions. She’s visible in the steps I take and clothes I chose to wear, the stances I chose to make.

She is not welcome here, yet she finds a way bloom.

For a time she may seem ideal, yet she is only fleeting. She soon dies and turns to dust. She has caused friendships to dissolve as she cannot stand the test of time and truth.

“Leave me now,” I pleadingly pray.

Her enemy sister humility is on the way.

I now take my stand, “I must go, I’m leaving you alone,” It is then that I hear a knock at the door.

It is humility who stands before me with her arms open wide. It is with her I chose to dine.



All my love to you,

Carotene Crazy Cook


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