Growing up

From 18/6/10

Playground school bell rings again
Why am I so sad again?

Isolated in a crowd
A heart wrapped tightly in a shroud

Tears that will not fall or stay
A heart broken in too many ways
Sad child, broken child
Child with hopes she pushed away

See her hair which once she tied
Cut and mangled by her side

See her eyes encased in glass
As if she wore an ugly mask

Sad child, broken child
Child whose hope was cast away

Others play their play time games
She just sadly looks away

Afraid of others judging stares
Afraid of those not even there

Sad child, broken child
Child whose skies are filled with grey

Sad child, broken child
Child with dreams buried
Deep inside






A poem written during recovery - but today I feel much more like a poet than when I wrote it - it was used at Erina's school, read, analysed and discussed - I was asked questions I didn't even know the answers to and I wrote it! Some words just fitted so I used them - but it does take me back to those days when I stood on the playground feeling like an outsider - like there were all these kids playing and having fun and I would wonder if their hearts felt like mine - did they play while hiding a terrible secret - did they skip and hop and run and tumble conscious of an ache in their hearts - of an agonising fear that someone would discover the secret and their family would fall apart - I remember those days feeling cold - not because of the weather but because there was a chill inside me that kept me frozen to the spot as an onlooker - and yes I told people I didn't know how to skip and I couldn't run well - but what I was really saying was that I was in too much pain to know how to be a child and play any kind of games. The only game I learned to play as a child was the family game of lies and deceptions, of keeping the truth under wraps and of keeping the world outside the house. Inside I was never really able to play games because I was already having to live as an adult.