Pollyanna For A Price?

From now on,
The ‘glad me’ is gone!
It’s Pollyanna for a price,
I should be paid for my advice!
Is it really such a crime
To take money for my time?
You see...
I used to have hope,
But now I just try to cope
With insults thrown in my face;
A constant verbal spray of mace!
A gesture and a laugh,
Delivered on behalf
Of a jaded population,
Living in desperation,
Floundering in frustration
In this so-called civilization.
So...
I think from here on out,
There will now be a drought:
On happy thoughts or words,
Or sweetly singing birds,
Or smiles and promises made.
I am now on a crusade
To reap what I have sown,
To make the world my own,
To take what I can get!
But...
Will I truly ever forget
That the real me, deep inside,
Has always been bright-eyed,
Wanting everything to be fair,
To comfort those who despair?
I suppose my claim to fame
Is to keep on playing the ‘glad game,’
And to proudly bear the name:
Of Pollyanna!
(Annoying, isn’t it?)

Lora Frikken ~ 4-7-03