Self Esteem Poem

Staring in the mirror,

Once again,

A never ending war,

Another day to settle,

On the reflection,

Staring back at me.

                Scars on my back, stomach, and side,

Evidence of my pressure sore, and trache also,

“My battle wounds,”

Of my Medical War,

Taunting me,

As they still are so evident.

                The Squishy, poor posture,

That prevents me,

From feeling beautiful,

And having that “model look”

In crop tops and bikinis;

                Physical differences rearing their ugly faces,

Evident and tormenting me.

I punch the reflection, then yell,

Holding my hand now,

I sit back and think,

Back on my life,

And suddenly smile.

                All the wonderful people in my life,

Some I wouldn’t have met,

If I had not had,

The bad physical disability that I had.

                The lives I’ve touched,

The people I’ve inspired,

How I gave others hope,

Why can’t I do that for myself?

I suck down the “poor Pitiful me” party,

And break another smile,

I am thankful for everyone in my life,

Because even though,

I am not “normal,”

They are in my life,

                Love me, and make my life,

Which would otherwise be lonely, cloudy, and grey,

Shine with a beauty bright. 

“What is Normal?” Poem

What is normal?

Is there an exact definition?

What does it look like?

Is it defined as:

Someone who looks like you?

But how can that be,

When everyone is designed differently?

                Does it have a common religion?

Or language speak?

Once again, how is that a possibility?

When each person varies,

In faith and speech?

                I know!

Maybe, perhaps, it is someone who behaves as you?

Once again, this cannot be,

The way they present themselves,

And act publicly,

Could be to show off,

Or due to some disability.

                So, I ask this question repeatedly,

What is normal?

To me,

The word does not exist,

Except by segregationists

                Do you wish to segregate?

And insinuate hate?

No? Then hear my plea,

Let’s erase this word,

From every persons’ mouth,

Erase it from the world’s vocabulary.

What is normal?

Dreams can change the world Poem

Notebook opened, 

pen in hand, 

paper blank, 

thoughts unplanned. 

Mind, 

a jumbled mess, 

so much to say, 

no idea where to begin!

Mind racing, 

head starting to spin!

Thoughts and ideas, 

bouncing around, 

pinballs in my brain. 

A jumbled mess, hurting my head

I sit there,

staring at the blank slate,

Waiting and waiting, 

for the thoughts and ideas, 

to join together, 

to fit, 

like a solved puzzle. 

Looking back at the notebook, 

*gasp* there are words!

The message finally written,

but will it be heard? 

Fight the fear!

Don’t hold back!

Speak your Mind!

I tell myself,

Let your message be heard,

lead the blind.

The message heard, now,

let it change the world. 

My Biggest Fear poem

What is my biggest fear? 

One simple word, 

pplease don’t snear, 

or laugh, 

but, “future” is my biggest fear. 

you may laugh, 

or question “why,” 

but to understand, 

you’d have to walk,

with me, down a twisting, rocky unpaved road.

This “road”, my life, 

is surrounded by a moat of uncertanty. 

A life, 

with a physical deformity, 

leaving the affected, 

to often wonder,

or worry, 

what will the future,

of my life hold for me?

A job? 

who would hire,

despite my medical needs, 

and the expenses of an aid or someone to help me.

Will I marry? 

Or have Children? 

If I do, will my children, too,

have a disability? fear of my future,

my biggest enemy.  

A writer’s mind Poem

It starts with just one sentence, 

just a few words,

on a piece of paper, 

to jump start that engine; 

your imagination, 

the machine of your creativity. 

One sentence, 

soon become, 

something of a masterpiece, 

and Awe. 

A story, a poem, or more, 

a script for a tv show, or 

maybe even a film! 

A pen to paper, 

words on the page, 

once you start, 

it’s beautiful, 

like a baby bird, 

taking its first flight!

For the whole world to bear witness, 

to the inspiring beauty, 

of the imagination Station; 

The creative genius, 

the writer’s mind. 

When you constantly ache Poem

Bomp! Bomp! Bomp! 

Alarm clock blaring its cruel tune. 

Time to wake up, 

you ache all over, 

but still have to face the day’s gloom. 

Yawn and stretch, 

rub sleep from your eyes, 

have to get up, 

greet the day, and

seize your “prize”. 

Another Ache this morning, 

story of your life, 

whether it be back, neck, or head, 

its all the same; 

Pop a pain killer or two or three, 

sometimes you think about Overdosing, 

and ending your misery. 

You decide against it, 

not wanting to hurt, 

those you love dearly, 

by taking your life, 

and making them all teary. 

All you want is the pain to disappear, 

meet its eternal doom, 

and never return. 

When you ache every day, 

life gets hard,

to be happy and thankful, 

sometimes it makes you even turn away from the Lord. 

Don’t forget, 

you are special. 

yes, it’s hard, 

but you are a fighter, 

and so very strong; 

you will be the champion, 

that God had envisioned for you, 

all along. 

“who is Jamie” Poem 2

All my life,

I’ve sat on sidelines,

sitting and watching,

letting life pass by.

“you can’t do this,”

“oh, be careful!”

“don’t hurt yourself!”

I always let people,

who I thought,

were only protecting me,

and knew better than I,

decide what was right,

and what was wrong.

So now,

as an adult,

I have no true standing,

not sure if things are,

good, safe, or Okay,

scared of messing up,

and looking like a fool.

Once again,

still on the sidelines,

letting everyone else, including my fears,

live and control my life.

How can it be?

Me, an adult? when so many didn’t let me,

didn’t give me space,

to learn and breathe,

make mistakes,

to figure out

Who is Jamie?