One of my friends was reading for the first time that night,
And I was there to support her.
She has been single for a couple weeks,
And another friend of hers was just dumped Monday,
And everyone was gathering to support each other.
My friends was nervous,
And at the last minute decided to read two poems
Instead of just the one she had planned.
You see, she has been writing for around 20 years,
And uses it to deal with all her pent up hurt and pain,
So she has a lot of gold to chose from.
So many stories, so much hurt.
There is a whole community of survivors -
Those etching pain into poetry, anger into beauty.
The black lady whose mother was white,
Who was continually asked if she was adopted,
Who has constantly been used and abused by society.
The lady who was raped when she was five,
The woman with six kids,
And the man who dares to let his guard down.
And my dear friend with the forever broken heart,
Who is literally looking for love in all the wrong places,
And has yet to find a guy who treats her like the jewel she is.
I am not much of a poet but I am a writer - and life is meant to be shared,
Whether publicly or through private bursts on an unknown blog.
Because we all share experiences that make up life, somewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment