My Gift To You: I’m Sorry: Revolutionary Improv Blogging Poetry

To those I tried to help today:
I’m sorry.
Like my father, my grandfather and grandmother,
my uncle, my great-uncle and great aunt —
and the people they learned it from —
I tried to be kind,
I tried to help,
I tried to serve
without any hope of reward,
without anything other than
maybe
bringing a smile to your face.

There was no reason I had
for doing what I did
except to help,
to lighten your burden,
to share your yoke.

Christ tried to help people,
but He knew how and when
to help.
Me? Not as good at it
as He is.

I make a lot of assumptions.
Many of them are wrong…
and for that, I’m sorry.
But please believe me when I tell you
that I’ll make you breakfast;
drive you around;
help you plant your garden;
edit your photos;
fix your computer;
watch and play with your kids;
give you a shoulder to cry on
and an ear to listen to;
take you shopping;
or any of the other dozens of things
I could do,
that I offer
altruistically,
with charity,
with no real thought
of recognition,
nor reward.

That you are angry with me
makes me sad.
That you think I’m expecting something
from you
makes me hurt
for you.
That you think that every thing
I say
or do
has some ulterior motive
is your belief,
but it is not my reality.

If you are mad at me,
please tell me why,
so I can work on doing things
that make you happy.

That is my real intent.
One hundred percent.
I just try
to be a nice guy.

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