“When you grew up like me and my four brothers, you end up feeling somewhat inadequate.
Like somehow you don't count.”
John Lydon
How can I be for real,
How can I really be here,
If I am forever falling
Through the cracks?
How can my presence
Have meaning
When it seems
What I am and
What I have to offer
Are not wanted?
Ideas I have,
Suggestions I make,
Gifts both physical
And heart-felt--
None of them seem
To be
What others want.
It is as if,
Despite my best efforts,
I am but a whisp
Of irritant
In the lives of others,
One they wish
Would just go away.
I know I am
So much more,
That I am not
The gadfly many
May see me as.
I possess a funny,
Warm heart
And a tender spirit;
I am creative,
Curious,
And perhaps more generous
Than prudent;
I have so much love
I want to give,
So many smiles
I want to impart--
What else do they want?
I can only be
Who I am.
What else of me
Is there to offer?
And why is it
Not enough?
Good karma will reward you if you just continue the way you've always been. But it always helps to reflect on what you're doing and change any behavior that is detrimental to you and others.
I had the same things to grable with. Loving ourselves, knowing our worth can take a long time to learn. Beautiful, honest and heartfelt poem, Rebecca.
Slaves who fled their masters were classified as insane. This term came from Dr. Samuel Cartwright who was an apologist for slavery in the pre-Civil War era. This release of my Anoka Time file is a look at slavery in the modern context of Minnesota N
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