Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay
no I don't feel bad about
crawling out from beneath the crippling doubt
you try to crush me with your cruel words
to destroy the purpose within with attacks from without
no I don't feel bad about
stealing back the resolve you tried to snuff out
you've made it your purpose to keep me down
I've made it my purpose to present with clout
you won't hurt me anymore
I don't care about evening the score
you won't keep me subdued beneath your scorn
I find your diatribe a bore
I'm becoming more
than you bargained for
I'm not your punching bag
you're rotten to the core
you're empty, shallow, and weak
no more will I seek
your meaningless approval
with purpose I will forevermore speak
~cie~
NaPoWriMo: Write a non-apology for the things you've stolen
April PAD Challenge: Write a purpose poem
Woo Hoo. Stand tall and proud.
ReplyDeleteOr medium-height and proud in my case. I'm five foot six. ;-)
DeleteI am a little over five ten. At fifteen I was five foot and half an inch. I really, really wanted to reach five two. And I did, briefly. I grew eight inches that year and two the year after.
DeleteI have massive amounts of stretch marks on my legs and buttocks from springing from four foot ten to five foot four in the space of a year. The last two inches came on more slowly. I didn't reach my full, not particularly impressive height until I was an adult.
DeleteMy father always hoped I'd be tall. He was six foot four and his sister is nearly six feet tall. My mother and I, at five foot six, are tall for her side of the family. Most of the women on that side are around five foot two.