Being Corrected

Thank you for ripping out my heart.

Leaving it bleeding cut to ribbons.

Thank you for teaching

how little I know.

Thank you for showing

what I was too blind to see.

© Presbypoet, March 24, 2002

This poem expresses one of lifes greatest puzzles. How do I know what I don't know?
When I learn what I don't know, it's generally painful. It hurts. Often it forces me to change in ways I don't want to. Yet I should thank the one who teaches me what i was too blind to see.