The Daily Prompt: Super Sensitive
‘If you were forced to give up one sense, but gain super-sensitivity in another, which senses would you choose?’
wanna give up my sense
to stand any kind of nonsense
wanna gain sensitivity by having
much more common sense
wanna give up my sensitivity
towards petty criticisms
wanna gain raised self-esteem
greater sense of self-worth
to attain the above, am gonna need
sight, smell, touch, hearing and…and..
mmmm…Oh O…forgotten the fifth one
whatever it is, you take it – the last one
take them all, as with memory gone wayward
no sense will now please my taste buds
oh o…now I remember the fifth one
so better leave them all with me, thanks!
the poem didn’t make any sense?
never mind, it’s fun to be nonsense
That was a poem for yesterday’s ‘super sensitive’ prompt.
The next prompt goes with my mood. An hour ago, when I wrote this poem, I was a Blogger in a Strange Land. Outside the train station, waiting for my son’s train to come, I was sitting inside the car when I decided to kill time by attempting this quaintly senseless poem and posting it.
Indeed I am either very insensitive or else super-sensitive but always a very strange blogger who writes about strange issues while sitting in strange places.
No choice though. These prompts appear when it is midnight here. Often, by the time I see them or get time to attempt them, the day’s almost over. No wonder I come up with hurried strange posts.
So you see…the fault Dear Readers is not in these prompts
But something strange in me, that my posts are queer.
(“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”