Where Is The Spice? The Juice?

Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

I dislike accusations made today,
That lack originality.
The same ones are used over and over.
So predictable they have become.

I remember a time,
When rumors were fresh.
And thoughtfully creative.
Nothing is exciting about them
And no one seems,
To go out of their way...
To make what they've heard,
More controversial.
Even the lies told,
Aren't worth repeating.

Too many have given up to live
Boring lives.
If I'm going to be accused,
Of anything...
I think I deserve the right,
To approve...
Of what's being said about me.
At least I know how to keep,
And hold those accusations...
Far more interesting.
I've been victimized,
By lies and rumors for years.
Where is the spice?
Where is the juice?
What is the point being made,
By re-using the same tired...
And outdated accusations.

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