Story of Me

The lonely child-

Afraid to speak and

Stricken with grief by a recent loss-

Grew a storm cloud over her head.

The cloud grew larger and heavier

And larger and heavier

Until it

Burst!

Down rained some words she liked:

Love yourself.

Write.

So the child wrote,

First alone in her room,

Then at school on her notes,

Until one day

The devious English teacher read her work

to the silent class.

The silent class applauded.

Strangers from class asked questions;

Strangers from class became friends.

And the lonely child, no longer lonely,

Talked more and more,

And wrote more and more.

And the child, no longer a child,

Became an adult

Writing to love herself

And to burst her clouds with sun.