Get Out!!!
By Rogue

Get Out! Get Out! Get Out!

I cry to the mischievious sprite that enters my soul when spring arrives.

How bold I become... saying what I really mean.

Bluntly; plainly. The way people should speak to people: Honestly.

My words do hurt -- sometimes.

My words do shock -- most of the time.

people just seem to stare when they hear the words flow like a raging river from my mouth to their ears.

"That's what she said!?" Someone would exclaim.

"I'm not surprised." Replies another.

Their whispers don't bother me -- too much in the Spring -- come to think about, the whispers don't really bother me in the Winter, Summer, or Fall either.

The only whispers that really bother me... are the ones that come from my soul.