the echo of a call
until the words are
a mantra in your head
have to let go
what harm is there
to an old friend
on an old message?
my mum, when ticked off
over something as small as a cracked glass
will, in spite, bring everybody else into
her bitter tirade
‘oh she doesn’t ever get out of bed.’
‘well, she doesn’t do anything.’
how difficult is to simply
bite your tongue
when you wish to slap the person in the face
scream you have your facts wrong
but you will never find out, mum
because i will never be good enough
it doesn’t matter what i do
you have standards way too high
for me to climb.
honestly i hadn’t ever wished
to grow up
grownups were old
but nowadays my innocence
i had faith, hope
in what i am not sure
in that the world at heart is right?
no clue to what was wrong, and why
i shouldn’t forgive all of the sinners
don’t trust all of the men with nine o’clock
shadows, advice from those
who were bitter
what a world
world we live in
just because they advanced us
will we really be looking back at
these times with pride, only memories
of where, when, who was by our side.
searching for the past
in the profiles of old classmates
what qualifies as success
have i lost
some have babies, are living in the same town
working now in the same school
it is what i watch on the television
people never going anywhere
and i wonder
what is my part in this?
best to leave the past where it is.
About the author:
Katie Lewington wrote her first poem aged 16. Even though, after analysing a poem for her hellish English GCSE, she vowed she would have nothing more to do with poetry. She is passionate about helping independent authors find the best audience for their work.
She can be contacted through Twitter @idontwearahat and her creative writing can be read at https://katiecreativewriterblog.wordpress.com