(Alternate entry for April 19, 2007)
Whatever's wrong with me today's been wrong
for years and years and years. It isn't new.
These insecurities were formed so long
ago, there's nothing much now I can do.
Like how I think I'm never good enough
for those I love, hard-wired in the brain;
the way a carved word when the wood is rough
and green will scar, emblazoned on the grain.
And so these trials we suffer in our youth
in many ways are never overcome;
though years convince us of our fears' untruth,
a sound, a sight, a word will strike us dumb
and drag us back to dungeons we well know,
though we thought we'd escaped them long ago.
3 comments:
It rings very true to me.
Thanks for commenting, Sophia! I'm glad that it rings true, and that someone out there is reading. Sometimes I really feel that everything that made me who I am, better or worse, was set in stone long before I had any conscious say in it. You get hard-wired, and try as you might, the same things always hurt. :S
Please feel free to check out the other poems, and thanks again!
Have a glass of wine... everything will be okay.
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