It was hard

It was hard
Easy to want to give up
Easy to go back down
You lent me support
You showed me a way
I made it

___

___

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

                — Langston Hughes

___
 

Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
It is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.
It is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made
and why they go away.

                                   — Carl Sandburg, Poetry Considered

___

___

I call out!

Are you going to sit and watch me,
As if I don't exist in the world.
Everyday I call out to you,
My bones are wasting away, am dying of hunger,
Am dying of poverty and you, you,
You, act like I don't exist.

Maybe a day in my shoes would evoke those feelings you try to hide.
I need you to reach for me,
Where I cannot.

I need you to make me feel I exist,
Before I become lunch to the walking, flying or crawling.
I need you raise your voice and tell me that I am worth it.
I may be born this way but,
Do I have to remain this way?

Do you hear me cry?
Because I need you to wipe the tears.
Do you hear me call you?
Because I need you to answer me.
Do you feel what I feel,
Because only then can I mean something to you.

                       —    UNICEF

___



"VP of sales, employee of the year, potty-trained at 18 months — very impressive CV."

___
 

Understanding means seeing that the same thing
said in different ways is the same thing.

                                                        — Ludwig Wittgenstein

___

Feeling Alone In my life, I've met many people. Why do I, still feel, so alone. In a world, with so many people. Why am I, sitting here, all alone. Walking past, go so many people. How I wish, that I was, safe at home. Looking out, at all these people.            Do they all, feel just, as alone?               — Dean Thorpe.