I was going to write a poem today.
A sulking feeling sorry for myself poem.
Tell the world how justified
I am to feel this way.
Yes, I was.
I think life should be all
rainbows, unicorns and don’t forget the glitter.
Good people should categorically, decisively
always win out in the end.
Bad people should fall down,
get zits on the end of their noses
have ugly hair
suffer the slings and arrows
of their own making.
But I’m not a poet, really I’m not.
And, no matter how childishly young I feel inside
I have grown into my 71 years of age
carving wisdom out of the fiber of my being
with hard-won personal growth.
Sanity says I’m going to laugh at myself soon.
Prudence advises me I need to feel these feelings.
There is still a little child inside me.
A child who worked so very hard
to grow up and be okay.
She’s a good girl.
A diligent one doing all her tasks
almost to perfection.
Faces adversity and smacks it in the face.
Using tribulation as motivation.
Sticks her tongue out at wrongness
using the sum of it all to help others.
That girl, that little girl
wanted above all else
to feel safe in the world.
Not just safe from bad people
but safe from bad luck
so-called acts of God
earthquakes, financial reverses
and don’t forget
safe from bugs.
Sneaky little girl she is,
she thought she’d figure it all out
somehow control life itself.
There must be a mystery somewhere.
A rule book that teaches you how to
win the game of life.
There really are those rule books.
Popular psychology books in libraries
now available on the Internet!
She read them all,
devoured them even.
Learned each new skill and
used them diligently.
Yes, she did.
She’s wise beyond her years
and knows how to do this
as well as that life thing.
she never learned at home.
It’s absolutely positively
not fair that life itself
is not controllable
and bad things happen
to good people
and to people
who’ve had too many bad things
in their lives already.
I was going to write a poem about all
the bad things that happened to me
until I saw a middle aged man
walking across a parking lot.
shoulders slouched down
defeat rolling over him.
Crushed by life he seemed.
So very sad.
The grown up woman knew.
The inner child knew.
The idealist knew.
Even the girl holding fairy dust knew.
Life might have been fair to me
That man held my truth in his posture.
That defeated man illustrated my life lesson.
All that fight I put into life held me in good stead.
All that gargantuan knowledge carved from life
makes a difference.
All that grit, spirit still present
means something important
My head is high.
My shoulders still intact.
My walk, even with my cane, is strong.
I’m still in this game of life
living my life to the fullest.
Maybe not everything I want,
but I’m alive and strong inside.
I have not been defeated.
I haven’t lost out.
It means that for right now
This day, I’m a winner.
Yes, yes. I am.
Telephone: (615) 464-3791
©2017 by Laura Coleman, Ph.D. All rights reserved.