Things I Should Have Said: An Autobiographical Tirade

From week to week and day to day

I’m one who never knows quite what to say.

When typing a paper or composing a text

It’s not hard; I know just what is next,

But when I’m surrounded by enemies and friends

I’m so scared I’ll say the wrong thing to all of them,


But I’m not sure I would.


From month to month and year to year

I listen and listen just trying to hear.

They tell me their stories and thoughts and their woes

While there I stand with mine held far below.

They all use me as a shoulder for tears

But when I have to cry no one offers me theirs.


But I’m not sure they should.


From moment to moment and hour to hour

I see myself change from a seed to a flower,

But as I sit here I’m afraid to go on

I’m afraid, after all, that my fears will have won.

With all of my heart I know the words to say,

I know I can do this, I know that I’ll try….


At least I’m sure that I could.

This poem is about: 


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