The first year I wrote some awkward poem about a hawk and Wyoming. It was from a prompt that everyone else had passed up because they didn't know what to write about Wyoming. My last year was one about Auschwitz, which was poetic biography when I wanted it to be autobiography. Sandwiched in the middle, my junior year of poetry-submitting, is the one I've had in my head for the last few days because I've been feeling it. I haven't changed the lines since I first wrote it because it is its own little entity apart from me but somehow always a part of me. And today it is the background music in my mind.

Learning to Love You

I think that I was born in center stage;
I’ve always been the brightest star, the perfect flower.
And I loved it.
I'd pull my ballet slippers on with great fanfare
And tiptoe to the big, round light, where I belonged.
I'd bow, they’d cheer; I sang, they’d hear,
And beg me just to stay a little more.

But nothing gold can stay and in my life I’ve found that true.
I've hung up my pink toe-shoes, dimmed the lights,
And now I say:
If all the world’s a stage, then I will be the audience.
Your light makes mine so pale and yet I know
It’s only right that I should clap and you should bow.
You can play and they will hear;
You will shine, and I will cheer.


Blogger Buttercup said...

I remember when you shared this in our creative writing class & I loved it! I remember feeling thankful for a little glimpse into your head & eager to see more. Your writing has always been so captivating in it's beauty and honesty.

8:32 AM  

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