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 (126.96.36.199) -- 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 (188.8.131.52) -- 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 (184.108.40.206) -- 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.
Click here to read other Poems by The Lost Girl
Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved. No part of this website, including all pictures and written words, may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without permission of the original author of the work. All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner. All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org so the proper person may be notified.