Looking At Myself Through My Own Eyes
Hi, I'm Kristen McCurley and my email is kristenam@hotmail.com I'm 13
and in eighth grade. Here are some of my poems to which (I hope)
someone can relate to:
A lone cry
echoes through
completely deaf minds,
unwilling to accept
the pain which could reflect
Their own cry for help.
The cry is harsh,
shrill and undulating,
as if the girl
Had been crying.
No one stops
To help this young girl.
She has tripped
And fallen in the gutter.
Her clothes?
Once fine.
Now only tatters remain.
They hang, fluttering,
On her slim, fragile frame.
Her eyes are hungry,
Shadowed and frightened.
No one cares
What happens to her.
She has no one to care,
no one to love her,
no one to soothe her
When she cries.
She weeps alone,
And only at night.
As she realizes this,
that there is no one who cares,
her brown eyes spill over
With crystal clear tears.
Passerby hurry on,
Glancing at her only once.
She has hidden
In her blue and white jacket.
She huddles in a ball,
crying harder,
And sits for a moment.
After a while,
she shudders and rises
To her feet.
She begins to walk again,
going nowhere,
looking for something
that cannot be found,
But trying at least.
Life goes on,
Unaffected by this young teen.
That is what scares her
More than anything.
More than the possibility
of being taken advantage of,
More than
Her own death.
She shivers
as shadows detach themselves
from the walls
And begin to follow her.
These shadows,
They are the shadows of life.
Death, sickness, depression,
Suicide, hatred.
All these are shadows of life
and she has endured
Through them all.
The deaths
of three grandparents,
the sickness of her once-close friend,
Her own depression.
She has,
only once,
contemplated suicide
And that was long ago.
She was, one day,
holding a knife,
preparing her lunch,
And preparing to take her life.
She told herself not to,
and never again,
To think of it.
The hatred of her "friends,"
Her relatives.
Seems like everyone in the world
Hates her.
"Unfair,"
She tells herself.
"It's not my fault
That I am different.
I can't help it,
no one can change it."
Her presence
gradually fades away,
Unheeded by anyone.
And as her last
known breath is drawn
I realize
That I am
Looking at myself through my own eyes.
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