for many years I hid my true self never admitting that I was Native I passed for white and so I thought that’s on them if they don’t/can’t/won’t recognize me for me brown girl with blue eyes only trying to survive in a white man’s world I wouldn’t give myself to any of them so they drugged me and took what they could and then I ran and ran and ran and buried my pain they were half right I am half white but now I am stronger, wiser and I am Native, still here everyday I grow stronger, wiser and I get louder and louder about who I am and what you did to me you should be afraid you were half right but you are all wrong
Hi Trisha, I liked this poem the first time around. The emptyness is obvious here, but also so is the uncertainty of wanting the gap filled or not.
ReplyDeleteHi Martin,
ReplyDeleteGood eye ... it's nice to know who's reading! ... and thank you for the comments. Your encouraging words keep me writing!
Oh do please keep writing, Trisha. A lot of poetry (especially competition winners, etc) I just can't read or understand, it's like looking at an abstract painting and have to be told what is in the artist's mind and what the painting is about.
ReplyDeleteWhereas your poetry is ... is poetry, you seem to be able to put your words down on paper and create the most honest pictures that I truly understand and empathise with.
Martin.