Tuesday, April 12, 2005

I hate being mislead.
I hate being confused.
I hate that my mother is dead.
I hate that my brother is wasting away his life.
I hate that my father is unemotional.

Sometimes, I wish I were less emotional,
less worrisome,
less self-conscious.
Sometimes, I wish I were all the things
I am not.

Explore the world you live in.
Do not stop at the end.
Begin in the middle,
continue through the end, and
end where you begin.
Here, you will find yourself.
You will see a new beginning,
from which you can begin again.

4 comments:

mermaid said...

The poems I love the most are the ones that shake me to my very core in their vulnerability. This is a struggle and unearthing of the self in one great cry.

Jyotsna said...

New beginnings--i beleive in them and i feel you do too..they help us in finding ourselves as we traverse through life's journey.This touched me,the plea and its pain!

gulnaz said...

i can relate to your poem.
i love my parents and often worry about losing them. i don't agree with my bro's career choice, he has so much potential and he is sellig himself short...i am so angry with him, that i hd been not talking with him for the last year or so...learning that this wont help so i at least talk with him now.

'begin in the middle'...great idea for someone like me.

musik-addikt said...

this is so real and i can relate to: Sometimes, I wish I were less emotional,
less worrisome,
less self-conscious.
Sometimes, I wish I were all the things
I am not.,
i quite often think this but am learning not to.