Not 'Polly' but 'Paul'

Wed, 11/17/2021 - 10:57 -- Xacia

There was a child
Who always smiled.
But his life was becoming wild
He had hundreds of questions piled,
In his struggling mind.
He was 'Polly'for all,
But he found joy on being called 'Paul. '
He never told anyone that he felt like a boy,
He was coy.
His parents made him wear frock,
But it made him feel as if he was locked.
Locked in a wrong room,
He felt like it was a tomb.
He wanted to get out of that room!
He wanted to bloom!

His mother would buy him new skirts,
But secretly he found pleasure wearing his dad's old shirts.
Everyone praised his long silky hair,
But he always wanted short hair.

One day when he was alone at home,
He took the comb;
And cut his long hair with scissors,
His long hair fell down like flowing river;
He looked into the mirror.
Looked at it for 10 minutes straight,
His short hair made him feel great.
He hated his breasts,
All he wanted was a flat chest.

He would see him
As a boy in his dream,
Waking up and seeing him in girl's body,
he would just scream!
His own body felt like a cage,
This feeling grew stronger with the increasing of his age.

He was tired of being closeted
Always his feelings of dysphoria haunted.
He told his parents with all his courage,
But they just discouraged.
They told it was just a phase,
Which would soon pass.
But he knew it wasn't a phase!
It would not pass.
Everyone regarded him as a tomboy,
But not accepted him as a boy.
He would always complain to God,
Why was he 'odd'?

He started to hate himself
Began to hurt himself.
All his friends' wrists had a watch,
But his wrist just had cut marks.

He was tired of fighting,
In his heart there was lightning
All he had were thoughts of dying.
All his life he fought for being called as 'Paul'
But now he wanted to put an end to all.

He stood on a building which was tall,
He released his body to fall...
He fell and all over there was blood,
As if a red coloured flood .
Now he was neither Paul nor Polly,
He was just a dead body.
His lifeless face, had a crooked smile,
It seemed like he was in peace going away from this cruel world to the miles.

There are many 'Pauls',
Just like anyone else, they need love from all!
They aren't 'odd' ...
They are the unique creations of God!

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741