No Problem

No Problem
 
I learned my manners at Mother’s knee
until the words came naturally.
 
She taught me to say, “Yes, please,” 
and “Thank you,” and “You’re welcome,” 
 
until the words came naturally.
 
So when I fell and skinned my knee
or riled up a stinging bee,
 
I didn’t screech or foul the air— 
just pretended I didn’t care—
 
and nice words came naturally.
 
“Oh my,” I’d say to searing pain,
hoping my spot in Heaven gain.
 
I’ve lived my life while years have passed,
and know manners  have changed so fast,
 
still my words come naturally. 
 
And so I flinch, and cringe, and care
when the F word flies through the air.
 
When I say, “Thank you,” for kindness done,
some how the reply has become— 
 
“No problem,” spoken naturally.
 
I wonder too if Mothers have changed,
or greater forces have prevailed,
 
so that manners no longer matter
in our daily pleasant chatter,
 
and cheap words come so naturally? 
Photo by Nicholas Githiri on Pexels.com

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