Author: The Lost Girl
Sometimes as I try to sleep in the middle of the night,
I ponder what it would be like to not have my sight,
I wouldn't know that I looked like I do now,
I wouldn't care if I looked like a clown.
I wouldn't see that I wasn't as pretty as her,
I would be happy- this I concur.
Sometimes as I look in the mirror at myself,
I ponder what it would be like to be deaf.
I wouldn't hear the foul language around me,
I would think that the world was always so happy.
I wouldn't deal with crying when I was called a name,
I would think they are speaking to me just the same.
Sometimes as I look at my father and mother,
I ponder why I wasn't born by another.
I would be a different person all together,
and inside me there would be no more stormy weather.
I could be the happiest child on earth where dark is all light,
and then this poem is something I wouldn't have to write.
My life would be different if some things would've changed,
as I was being born- my life would've rearranged.
If I couldn't see,
I'd be happy with me,
If I couldn't hear,
name-calling wouldn't bring tears,
If I was a different girl,
Being so happy would be nice to give a whirl.
But, unfortunately, none of things things are me,
and so I'm left trying to make myself see,
that I'm a beautiful person, and that what they say isn't true,
and that God put me here for my parents, and blessed me with skys of blue.
If I tell myself those things enough, one day they'll be real,
but until then, this empty me is constantly how I feel.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Britney (188.8.131.52) -- Monday, February 14 2005, 02:39 pm|
I loved your poem.....I can relate to it! i loveed how your wrote and expressed it! Two thumbs up !!! Always, ~Britney~
|Holly (184.108.40.206) -- Saturday, April 9 2005, 10:16 pm|
This poem is brilliant...honesly, I'm so jealous of your ability to write, and I can relate alot to this poem.
|dija abernathy (220.127.116.11) -- Saturday, August 30 2008, 09:39 pm|
so much truth to what you say, i think every day that maybe my life would be better, the hole what if, when it gets hard all i can do is tell myself it'll get better and remember the good time though few there are and few i remember.
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