by Shannon Adele
Im seven and I just
Want to let you know that
Im not crying, Im not
I just have a tiny piece of glass
Moving across my eyeball.
Hi mom. Im sixteen
And you have cancer and you are dying
And I kind of wish that I had
A tiny piece of glass
In my eyeball and that way I could pretend
That I was crying. And that way I could
Pretend that I really really dont want to.
Hi mom, Im twenty two
And youre just always crying about
Things that Im doing and whats with
That, because I almost always dont
Even ever have any glass in or around
Any parts of any of my eyes.
Posted on 04/12/2007
Copyright © 2020 Shannon Adele
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/12/07 at 03:35 AM|
Yeah, that happens to me sometimes. Obviously, it worked out quite well for you.
|Posted by Genevieve Sturrock on 04/12/07 at 02:07 PM|
i loved the tiny piece of glass moving across my eyeball! this is sad and strong at the same time.
|Posted by Meghan Helmich on 06/09/08 at 08:17 PM|
sometimes i wonder how many times we can write to our mothers. all of the things we have to say..