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Tia

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

5 poems·Since November 2015
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November 2, 2015

It's weird,

this thing they call life.

It twists,

ups, downs, side to side,

Jerking me around

as if I am nothing but a doll.

But I am anything but a doll.

I am strong and persistent.

I am capable,

able to stand agasint the riptide of life,

prepared to stand my own

in the whirling, swirling twists of life.

I am free.

Free to make my own choices,

to stand up for myself 

against the waves of critique and hatred

that crashes down at every turn.

I am powerful.

I will stand determined against the grain

against the normal way of life.

 

It's weird, 

this thing called life.

It twists,

ups, downs, side to side.

It grabs and grasps and tries to jerk me

like some doll in the waves.

Yet I am strong.

I am powerful.

I am capable.

I am able,

able to rise up against the tests of life,

and forceful enough to beat

this crazy thing called life.

 

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