Questionable Advice to Myself
I met a younger me, my past,
six years old and not knowing
she'll grow to love tears rather than laughter,
that she'll scream her way through life.
I wondered what I should say to her,
to give what I never had.
A single word would change her life.
So I bit my lip and said:
Mimic all my mistakes, like the machine you are,
cry every tear, spill every drop of blood,
because if you don't, you'll never grow up
to meet yourself and see what you did wrong.
Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 566 times
Written on 2005-10-15 at 17:13
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