This is a little poem I wrote the other day when I was feeling blue. It's always relevant, though.
From a young
young
young
age I cried
but what
could I do?
Those tears filled
my body from my
toes to my eyebrows.
So full, my pores leaked
pain
frustration
fear
pride
hopelessness
because
I’m no one.
What could I
ever do?
I put it off my mind,
but I never forgot.
Older now,
still filled,
still leaking,
still searching,
but maybe
I’ve found my voice.
What do you do
when no one listens?
Get louder?
Yell?
Shout?
Scream?
Listen?
Write the important.
Write what matters.
Write the tears,
from pore to paper.
What do you do
when no one listens?
Try again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Keep trying.
Find more that matters.
Write more tears.
Soak the sheets.
What do you do
when no one listens?
Speak up?
Shut up?
Stand up?
Rise up?
I’ll let you know,
once I figure it out.
Comments