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Canadian Girl: Life Strengthens

 

Elementary

This morning I arose.

An early morning.

I got up and I froze.

What have they overheard?

Mommy calls me for pancakes.

Daddy calls me for cornflakes.

The sky still dark outside.

Cartoons are playing on cable.

I got nowhere to hide.

Breakfast is set on the table.

Tears in my eyes.

Hear my sad cries.

Insecurities got the best part of me.

The children break every rule.

Curiosities got me in misery.

I have no friends at my school.

The sun comes out.

I lose my doubt.

The school bus is about to come.

I will get bullied today.

A loner – I just want to run.

My memories of yesterday.

Middle School

I stand taciturnly on my fathers front porch.

The caliginous that began to take control of my soul.

It’s another day to sit through more church.

The pastor that could take this broken girl and make her be whole.

The seniors home the choir would sing at.

The church ladies and all their fancy hats.

Head coverings that glow like beauty.

New places. New communities.

Prayer meetings and the elders duty.

New school for me. New surroundings.

High-School

My first baptism and my first communion.

My first boyfriend at Family Reunion.

My first heartache. My first breakup.

Comfort food ; cake. My first make-up.

I turned on a love song.

I put that lipstick on.

Just another nice Canadian girl.

Beautiful, elegant, like a pearl.

A diamond to be cherished.

Flaws covered and were blemished.

Books were special like my best friend.

They were the wisdom at the end.

How did I tumble down from grace?

I was just looking for my place.

I look back on my many mistakes.

I sent my parents through heartaches.

How did I turn it around?

A world of silence – no sound.

Claire once knitted me a sweater.

I thought I knew so much better.

Teen years like cold winters are some of the hardest.

Everybody wants to date the hot lead guitarist.

A popularity contest.

Hoping everybody’s impressed.

Young Adult

I grew up and I wanted to soar.

I packed my stuff and out the front door.

I said goodbye on the telephone.

I found a new place to call my home.

I wanted to be a dancer.

Church was no longer my answer.

I waved goodbye to the life I knew.

I watched as the resentment grew.

Who had I become?

Things I must succumb.

I knew I should go to college.

Guidance I failed to acknowledge.

I became my own worst enemy.

The darkness as it overwhelmed me.

I searched for healing ; therapy.

I searched for meaning ; clarity.

Adult

I found maturity in broken places.

As I looked at the pain in others faces.

I saw tears like rain in their meaningful eyes.

I looked up at the sunset into the skies.

I discovered the word empathy.

A country of much diversity.

The world has really changed.

It has been rearranged.

Tradition is no longer the normal.

Job interviews are still very formal.

Beautiful scenery for adventures.

Unconditional love for transgenders.

No more democracy.

A place for equality.

I picture the strength of a mother.

I picture a sister who lost a brother.

I live in a land of beauty.

Helping hands who see.

Broken people… I went on a search.

Broken people…I took myself to church.

I saw a pastor there.

Dapper, tall, fine hair.

I wanted to cry on his shoulder.

It was time to start my life over.

Poem to ex!!!

I wrote this poem to an ex many years a go, and I kept it with me to remind me that I always still have writing. I also cooked him this candle light dinner around that time too.

Some people often ask me: “Why are you and him not married?”

My answer is simple: “Life changes.”

I can still reminisce.

 Today

I’m contemplating the mornings I awoke to a radiant rising sun.

I’m remembering the sun as I used to gaze at it ; beaming yellow, shining brightly above my head.

I slowly try to find my shades to stop the irritation ; the blindness it used to give my eyes.

It’s almost like the lust you now seem to create before me.

I allow it to send me a reminder of those prosperous winter days.

I would see the shimmering snow.

It would be glistening outside my window like a joyful, gracious, Christmas day.

The christmas tree decorated beautifully. The snow falling like a picture perfect family portrait.

The scenery that used to surround me. 

It was so angelic, yet so unreal – inside I was still in pain. 

Yet…

When I recall the past ; I go back and retrieve these memories.

As painful as they may have been – I’m still in satisfaction.

I get reminded of treasured moments. 

Treasured moments spent with you. 

Although the blistering sun in the summer causes me sunburns.

Red patches like strawberries on my pale white skin.

Although you’ve brought me many tears throughout our disputes.

Storms like volcanoes.

I still find hope ; like flowers find sun, soil, and water for nourishment.

It’s no different than the friendship we keep trying to nourish.

Although my christmas holidays ; I spent lonely, frustrated, crying.

Sometimes miserable.

The picture always made it look irresistible.

I recall the scenery that surrounded me ; through the aura I still found faith.

Faith to believe that one year it will be different.

 I began to remember the times I spent lying beside you.

I remember how you often held me close.

Your tight squeeze ; I didn’t want to let go.

It was comforting. It was my safety net.

I was treasuring those cherished moments.

I never forget the timid smile you had.

I still see the angelic face of yours ; it would often be staring back at me in a daze.

I remember that feeling I felt so deep inside of me.

I miss being in that moment with you, hoping it would be something.

I used to pray you were my eternity. I used to pray you were my forever.

Those cute laughs of yours.

I used to listen to them. They were what kept my blushing.

My face often red like a basket of raspberries.

Why do I have to accept it all now as just a memory?

Let me just forget the tear-drops of the past.

Let me just forget the storms that rainy days bring.

I still wish for you.

I still want you.

I still hope for those memories to continue.

By now you’re probably wondering what happened to me and him. The story has a happy ending and a not so happy ending. The not so happy ending is that we didn’t end up together. I was like his starter wife and he was like my starter husband. The happy ending is were still respectful to each-other and still friends. I actually invited him to my birthday this year as well as his new girlfriend and I think he’s going to marry that one. I couldn’t be more happy for him! We actually became best friends in the end, and then we agreed to be respectful of each-others lives. We have learned so much from pain and we have helped eachother mature into the man and woman were becoming. I look at him like someone who deserves to be married to a good woman. I’m sure he looks at me the same but a good man of course.

Yes, you can go through a lot with someone and still turn the story around. I know because I did with him. It wasn’t the way I originally planned it. It was the way that was better for both of us. There is always a happy ending. Sometimes we just need to change our attitude to figure out what that happy ending is.

Poem: LONELY

Lonely,

By, Irene

The irony of people never ceases to amaze me,

Does this even phase me?

They speak so loud, so bold, so proud.

Quick to talk – even quicker to mock.

They try to change the selfless to become selfish.

They call it success thinking they help people up from their mess.

They start rubbing blessings in peoples face.

People have pain impossible to erase.

They compete with people who can’t be them.

They forget they need to love them.

Why is this world filled with greed?

Why are people left to bleed?

I listen to them complain.

How Can I heal the worlds pain?

True bullies – demons they can’t admit.

They want recognition and to look fit.

They’re like actors playing the part.

They don’t mean sincerity in their heart.

I see the acts. I see the show.

Where did all the faithful people go?

They talk about compassion.

They live more for fashion.

My life and others they want to re-arrange.

The fakery will never change.

I won’t go down with the devil.

I won’t become a rebel.

I know there’s a god and I know he’s got me.

I see heaven, and I’m holding that key.

A reminder to us all that tough times will come and it’s not how many times we fall down. It’s how many times we continue to rise up.

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