She came along with a dirty dress hanging around her like a curtain
Torn from a derelict house.
Her hair was dirty and her face was beaten
By time and God knows who.
She noticed me and screamed
That I must work hard to be good,
Love Jesus and look after my loved ones.
She stopped and looked me square in the eye and repeated:
“Be good to your family.”
Then she walked on.
She stank and the air was fouled by her presence.
My publisher sat next to me and watched her go.
“She gave me a manuscript once, years ago.” he said.
“It was well written, the grammar was perfect,
But it was so boring. The characters, the events were so boring.”
“I would have bought her lunch,” I said. “if I knew she was a writer.”
We laughed, but deep down I knew
She had spoken the truth and given good advice.
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