Am I Left Alone
When my journey started
All were watching me
And guiding me
Wondering at each step I made
Each one ensuring
That I made each step right
Without tumbling
Running to my rescue
If I showed signs of discomfort
As I advanced this support and help
Started reducing
As they saw me
Helping new entrants
In making steps right
The support even stopped
And they were not forthcoming
Even if I asked for
I understood that
I needed no further help
And can stand and walk on my own
And I had additional strength
To reach out others if they were in need
Of a help from me
Is it that in the process
I had given room for others to think
I can hurt them
One realization dawned in me
People rush to help
If you talk your mind
And if you do what you talk
This support wanes
When you start guising your thought
When you sweeten your words
To mask the bitterness of your intensions
And when acts counter what you spoke
This growth of mine
And the acquired so called worldly wisdom
Distanced me away from others
I receive complaints too
That I fail to understand others
While I nurse a feeling
That others do not care to understand me
I am also described as a person
Living in his own world
Choosing not to accept surrounding realities
And not to appreciate their impacts
Either on me
Or on people around
No doubt
I am given to question myself
Am I left alone
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Related quotes
The Day You Started To Walk
Baby, When you were eight months old,
you were thin and enterprising,
liked to know about everything,
that were kept at heights and locked,
you crawled for a month all around,
and picked up anything from the ground,
so we made our home 'baby safe'
you did like to crawl up the stairs,
first head in front and then turned,
tried to crawl back in the stairs,
so I taught you,
to climb up step by step,
when I checked you, you reached the top,
with much ease and valiant,
made noise from the top to carry you down.
Do you remember the day,
that you started to walk?
I still remember you standing up,
At first it was very tough for you,
to carry your own weight on your feet,
you cried a lot and I was sad,
but I had to let you go through,
the life's lesson and you are the one,
must learn your own lesson and,
no one can ever help you to do it for you.
you held the cupboard for support,
and started to take the steps,
you were crying a lot,
and the drops of tears fell,
on your beautiful cheeks,
I was there beside you,
to hold you, in case if you might fall,
watching you walking,
catching in the camera and memory,
slowly in two days,
you did not need support,
started to walk,
slowly and steadily,
with both hands wide open,
to keep yourselves balanced,
you started the journey,
to travel on this earth,
as a courageous independent human,
with that first step taken,
just in front of me.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Made Me A Man
As I work with the sweat upon my brow
As so to support my family my wife and child
I do for them, all that I can,
As GOD, he made me a man.
I Protect all which is mine and what I own
Which includes my possessions and also my home
At my wife’s side I will always stand
As GOD, he made me a man
I will never ever lie or cheat or steal
Never hurt anyone when instead I could heal
As I know what is in my greater plan
As GOD, he made me a man.
I will never ever start a war or even a fight
Whether I be wrong and they be right
I will talk with them, until we both understand
As GOD, he made me a man.
I will not break the vows I made to my wife
No matter the problems or even the rife
I know years from now in front of GOD I will stand
As GOD, he made me a man.
A soul and a life GOD he gave me
He showed me the roads and told me to be free
I gave up being a boy from worries I had not ran
As GOD, he made me a man.
As I say my prayers alone at night
I humble myself to the Lord and his might
I know that GOD, he made me a Man
But I am the one, who made me who I am.
poem by Randy McClave
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I'm In Enough Pain, Don't Use Me To Make Your Life Interesting
do you care about me,
or do you need drama?
what i share is hard enough as is,
i need trust and support,
what i have been through is hard enough,
i doubt myself everyday,
i often question 'who am i? '
for what to hear that i was right,
that i'm worthless?
i need support,
not be an excuse for work,
or talk around friends,
in my mind, i am not suppose to talk,
i still feel like that kid,
trying to get help,
but instead i'm afraid,
of not being believed,
and yet, i live with this nightmare,
day after day,
hoping that one day,
this pain will ease,
but i'm left with unaswered questions,
do you really care for me,
or is it all an act?
poem by Mona Martinez
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I Understood
If i ever asked for strength,
God must have given me difficulties,
They made me stronger instead.
Then I understood;
Sometimes He allow illness
So we care for ourselves.
If I ever begged for wisdom,
God must have granted me problems,
I think I hadst to solve.
Then I understood;
Our hearts 're broken,
So we be strong.
When asked for prosperity,
God gave me brain,
I had to think and think o' work.
Then I understood;
We fail other times,
For us to be humble.
In place of Courage,
I was given storms of danger,
Mine was to overcome.
Then I understood;
God might break our spirits,
In time to save our souls.
I called forth for favours,
Instead God made opportunities,
Up my way.
Then I understood;
Our paths 're made longer,
So we won't hit Walls.
I then asked for love,
But God gave me trouble stricken,
People. To help.
Then I understood;
Sometimes God snatch our best,
To make us live longer.
I
Then I understood something,
Happening sometime,
For some seasoned reason...,
II
I remember one time,
I broke my leg.
Now I understand;
God wanted,
Me not to fall in hole.
III
I recall another time,
My short younger brother,
Lost everything from the ground.
Now I understand;
He was to find them on shelves,
IV
When I received nothing I wanted,
God gave me everything I needed,
And that's His perfect work
poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
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Daggered
There is awesome fear in my voice,
To become a liar may need courage,
But life is the same, just rude, for me.
The fear is a feeling of strength,
I have this for my words to sound.
I froze when he spoke, I am so improper,
They support me, I do not skilfully support,
I just help with strong talk, justice is about.
To fear is the typical tactic, to fear me is about.
It is improper to scare us, for we fear and laugh.
They spoke after him, after the group was me,
And the discussion ended so divinely;
A path took our support, we ventured and gained,
But the enemy is about, motivated to strike
With daggers.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A Person Like You
You were there from the start,
You always was there to help,
Even after what I told you,
You held my hand to help me through,
Everything I told you,
Made you blue,
But, you were still helping me through,
You seemed to always know what to do,
In a time I was so confuse,
You told me what we can do,
You been my support,
Whenever I would hurt,
Told me things that I didn't want to hear,
But, it was a way I felt you care,
I always seen where you were coming from,
But, it was something I didn't want to accept,
That maybe you are right,
Maybe I do need that change,
To be that role model once again,
And be the person
My mom knew I can be.
Before I do something i'll regret,
And hurt the people I care about,
With you by my side,
I know I can change.
Copyright © 2009
1-22-09
poem by Mona Martinez
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Freaks
There are no freaks in our world
just sad and lonely souls.
Their disfigured bodies
cause some to turn away,
but look into theirs eyes
and you will see sadness there,
the sadness of rejection
throughout their growing lives.
Of their disfigurements
so many unkind words are said,
hurtful words,
that would hurt any ones feelings.
The say they do not understand,
that they have no feelings like us.
Years ago, they used to be paraded
on carnival sideshows.
There they were called freaks
and people paid money
just to gawk at them.
Today we are not much better
as we lock them away
hoping out of sight, out of mind.
Maybe we might confront the problem one day.
After all they are only human being
all said and done.
All we have to do is look passed
what first catches our eyes,
strip away the deformities
and find the person who lives inside.
28 May 2009
Authors note:
In my other hobby as being, a member of a Western Town we have a charity we support called Trees. Trees support many homes that house people like those in my poem. Two or thee times each year they bring some of these people down to us and we entertain them for a few hours. We also visit their homes to put on acts at their fetes and go to their Christmas Party. Some of these people were not born with the handicaps they have, but inherited them through accidents.
DVH.
poem by David Harris
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Why At All I Came To This Earth
Why at all I came to this earth
It must be two years now
Since I am with you all
I really could not make out
How far my parents were happy
On my arrival
I knew I did not get many things
Which I wanted, rather needed
For a total growth
And emotional support
I started noting that
My parents did not like each other
Often they argued on matters
Which were beyond my perception
They too were running short
Of many things, probably
I have two elder sisters
From their talking
I came to know that
Our family was in great trouble
One evening my mom took me from home
And for the first time
We were travelling in a vehicle
Rushing us to a new place
My mom left me with some one
And that some one handed over me
To some other one
Thus I kept on moving from hands to hands
Leaving me to wonder
Where this changing hands will stop
I was a bit comfortable with the
Little girl, the last lap,
Who really attended to my needs
Better than even what my mom did
But some where some thing happened
I started feeling pain on my head
Which persisted and kept on increasing
I could not talk about this
But, cried, cried and cried
The little girl attempted to comfort me
But, it did not relieve my pain
The girl became angry with me
And started beating me
I could not register what went on further
I was in a new environment
Definitely much cleaner and better
Than any of the places I lived so far
All in white
People were attending to me
And giving me what all
They feel I needed
But, here I could not move
All the time in bed
I used to think how nice it will be
If I could spend all my time like this
Things did not happen that way, though
As I could see myself from the above
All these people in white
Keeping busy around me in the bed
I tried to tell them
See, here up, I am very much here
I know, this is death
As my elder sisters told me
You will go up and up
To God's caring hands
Once you die
I am going to Him is what
I understood
But then, tell me
Why at all I came to this earth
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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No Son Of Mine
The key to my survival
was never in much doubt
the question was how I could keep sane
trying to find a way out
things were never easy for me
peace of mind was hard to find
and I needed a place where I could hide
somewhere I could call mine
I didn't think much about it
til it started happening all the time
soon I was living with the fear everyday
of what might happen at night
I couldn't stand to hear the
crying of my mother
and I rememeber when
I swore that, that would be the
last they'd see of me
and I never went home again
they say time is a healer
and now my wounds are not the same
I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth
I had to hear what he'd say
He sat me down to talk to me
he looked me straight in the eyes
he said:
You're no son, no son of mine
You're no son, no son of mine
You walked out, you left us behind
and you're no son, no son of mine
oh his words how they hurt me, I'll never forget it
and as the time, it went by, I lived to regret it
You're no son, no son of mine
but where should I go,
and what should I do
you're no son, no son of mine
but I came here for help, I came here for you
Well the years they passed slowly
I thought about him everyday
what would I do, if we passed on the street
would I keep running away
in and out of hiding places
soon I'd have to face the facts
we'd have to sit down and talk it over
and that would mean going back
they say time is a healer
and now my wounds are not the same
I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth
I had to hear what he'd say
He sat down to talk to me
he looked me straight in the eyes
he said:
You're no son of mine
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Biggest Fan
I'm your biggest fan
I will give all the support
That I possibly can
Willing to do things that
You can see
Like buying one of your mix Cds
Or things that you can't see
Even if you were to stare
Like my nightly prayers
Anything to show that I care
Just know that my support
Will not go anywhere
My friendship is not fairweathered
It's durable like tupperware
With the strength of DeMarcus Ware
You better believe I will always
Be there
Believe this it's not always about
What you can see
For it's the things that we can't see
That holds the most importance
Like air
Without it we would not last a minute
Never forget or doubt
Cause my support is like a winning
Ticket that's in your pocket
All you have to do is cash it
Never doubt the strength
Of hidden support
As they say in the game of Spades
The strongest cards are the ones
That you have not played
Just to let you know I am here always
I will do what
I can for a friend
poem by Tameeka Smith
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No Son Of Mine
Well the key to my survival
Was never in much doubt
The question was how I could keep sane
Trying to find a way out
Things were never easy for me
Peace of mind was hard to fin
And I needed a place where I could hide
Somewhere I could call mine
I didnt think much about it
Til it started happening all the time
Soon I was living with the fear everyday
Of what might happen that night
I couldnt stand to hear the
Crying of my mother
And I remember when
I swore that, that would be the
Last theyd see of me
And I never went home again
They say that time is a healer
And now my wounds are not the same
I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth
I had to hear what hed say
He sat me down to talk to me
He looked me straight in the eyes
He said:
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
You walked out, you left us behind
And youre no son, no son of mine
Oh, his words how they hurt me, Ill never forget it
And as the time, it went by, I lived to regret it
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
But where should I go,
And what should I do
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
But I came here for help, oh I came here for you
Well the years they passed so slowly
I thought about him everyday
What would I do, if we passed on the street
Would I keep running away
In and out of hiding places
Soon Id have to face the facts
Wed have to sit down and talk it over
And that would mean going back
They say that time is a healer
And now my wounds are not the same
I rang that bell with my heart in my mouth
I had to hear what hed say
He sat me down to talk to me
He looked me straight in the eyes
He said:
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
When you walked out, you left us behind
And youre no son, youre no son of mine
Oh, his words how they hurt me, Ill never forget it
And as the time, it went by, I lived to regret it
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
But where should I go and what should I do
Youre no son, youre no son of mine
But I came here for help, oh I was looking for you
Youre no son, youre no son of mine - oh
Youre no son - ha yeah, ha yeah, ha yeah, ha yeah
Youre no son, youre no son of mine - oh, oh...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Support
You seem to know what I was thinking,
Before I let you in,
And yet with everything I told you,
You never turned your back.
Accepting me for all that I was,
Made me realize the person I was.
Even though times were rough,
You were always there to lend a hug,
I never thought i would make it through,
All of this hurt and pain i suffered through,
But you gave me the strength
I was lacking all along,
You always seen where I was coming from,
Before you offer your advice.
I wouldn't have gotten this far,
Without your support and love.
You were a great person to get to know.
You lend a hand when ever you could,
You were always there to talk,
There not much more I can say,
Only because words can't explain.
poem by Mona Martinez
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You Were
You were the person I think of,
When I wanted to give up.
You were the person I think of,
When my life was getting rough.
Though you were always there,
When I needed somebody to care.
Never giving up,
When days were tough.
You always spoke from the heart,
Just to say how you felt.
Made me realize I could do more,
To change my ways in living.
You gave me the stenght to be,
The person I am,
Not a day go by that I wondered,
If you be there for me,
I always knew in my heart,
That you be there,
To help me through with life,
I'm so thankful to have you in my life,
I still don't know what I would of done,
Without your love and support,
You showed me that it okay to be me,
At times when I didn't care,
You always gave me reasons to,
Nothing have been the same ever since,
Mainly because I'm a new girl,
I know my mom would be proud,
Of what i've became,
But most of all she would be thankful,
Of what you have done,
To help her little girl through,
All of the hurt and pain,
That came along with giving her up.
poem by Mona Martinez
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Present Stage
To be noticed would be a journey
To let people in would be, too
To scrape my knee on concrete
To feel their love would be sweet
To be noticed would be a journey
To have some support
To know that people love me
Without getting hurt
To be noticed would be a journey
To be me, so someone would see
To have a person to turn to
In my time of need
To express myself
Withtout pain running deep
He took my trust away
Without trust, I can not see
To have trust again would be a journey
To feel loved again would be and adventure
But 'would' sometimes never comes true
Even if they see your pain
Maybe someday I'll trust again
Let people in
Have some support
Without getting hurt
Feel the love
To be me
Having somone to turn to
In time of need
poem by Chatara Conway
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Understanding your not here
I continue to miss you. I try making my self believe and understand you have made it to a better place but it's not working. All these questions pop up with no answers. Which leave me in doubt and soon I havent figured anything out. I am back where I started, not being able to move at least one step foward. How hard is it to understand your not here anymore. How hard is to understand your smiles, your voice, your love has vanished. How hard is it to keep living, knowing everyday i wake up, you will not be there. How hard is it to understand My graduation, children, and home will not share a moment with you. How hard is it to get over you!
Fathers’ day
Fathers’ day
I was greeted by my children
I looked back as to
What I have done to them
Nothing much
Or more than what all fathers would have done
To their children
They greeted me saying
That I am a great dad and what not
To what extent I deserve this
As far I know
I have not demonstrated
Any unique signs of love
I have not, of course,
Disciplined them nor
I have given them specific
Instructions
I used to feel
Whether I have missed to tell them
The importance of being organized
Being ambitious
And being industrious
So that they can become
Something more different from
What others (of their age) are
I chose this approach
Because of my staunch belief
That lessons learnt of their own
Have more beneficial impacts
Than just sharing your experience
I would have guided them
Into pains taking paths
So that they have better gains
As per my estimate
They have grown on their own
And they were never tamed or trained
In a particular fashion
I feel I have given them enough freedom
To choose paths or faiths
After their experimenting
With different approaches
I believe that they have the strength and confidence
To decide the appropriate step
And to take care of themselves
Even in demanding situations
I examine myself as to
Whether my children
Felt they are important
And they are consulted
While taking vital decisions in the family
Sometime children used to say
“Dad, your letting us to our way
Helped us evolve and not just grow”
While this is a compliment from one side
I used to complaints as well
As my wife feels that I have not
Contributed enough to help children
Shape up their future
I still stick to my belief
That evolution is more important
Than just emerging
As the former has a better sustainability
And a stronger foundation
Than the latter
It has been my suggestion to my kids,
Not necessarily an advice
That they should do things
Which they enjoy doing
Though initially I did not enjoy
What they were doing
I saw a change in them
I started marking they started
Doing sensible things
That would have a say on their
Overall development and growth
A self-assessment of mine
As a father
Makes me feel that
I should have done more visible things
To demonstrate my love to them
And should have extended
Still a wider broad based
Emotional support
Though I can claim to have
Accepted and accommodated them
As they are
I did little demonstration to make them appreciate
That I am making efforts to understand them
I used to get appreciated by them
For my inputs, which, they say
Have triggered them to develop better insight
So that they can understand
Events, emotions and appearances
I thank them
For their sincere love and affection
For not forcing me to act in a manner
That would displease them
For their innocence and expressions/outbursts therefrom
I love them
I cry when they are pained
I am proud of them
And will be ever so
On this fathers’ day
I would launch upon
Efforts to make them
Feel my affection towards them
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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just how right I am
I just can’t understand
how it is that
the world can’t understand
how right I am
and how wrong it is
OK, we’ll excuse the world, for the moment,
since it is far removed from my person
and my mind
so it can’t really be expected to understand my
unfailing rightness:
just how right I am and how just I am;
but the family, my family –
no, not the family of man
but the damned family of mine, my blood and bones and skin –
I can’t understand for the world of me
why my own family
that eats at the table with me
can’t understand
how right I am
and wrong they are…
just how right I am
and how just I am…
Look, I can understand about the world
but I just can’t understand
how the family….
I mean, this is where the family is important
for if the family can give me
just a little support –
just a teeny-weeny bit – I mean how much
does it take
for the family to see
how right I am
and how wrong the family is.
Is that really asking for too much?
You see, I’m sure you can see,
if only the family could agree
the world itself would see
how right I am…
But what is to be done?
prophets are never accepted
in their own home
and so in their own family too…
and so perhaps the truth lies in this cliché…
still, if one looks at it clearly,
I just can’t understand
how it is that
the world, which includes that silly family of mine,
can’t understand
how right I am
and how wrong it is
poem by Raj Arumugam
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What about me
My sister gets all the love
And support she needs
She has always been first
In your mind and heart
But what about me
My brother gets anything
He wants even when he
Doesn't deserve it at all
Because he's the baby
But what about me
I'm the one you can
Count on to watch the
Animals or the kid when
You go somewhere
But what about me
I'm the one that is the
Last person to know
What's going on and
The last one you consider
But what about me
What If I want to go
With you when you go
What if I want to do
The same things with you
But what about me
Why don't I get the same
Kind of love and support
That they get, aren't I
Just as important
But what about me
Don't I deserve the same
Consideration as them
Don't I deserve the same
Kind of love and support
But what about me
Am I not your daughter
Don't I deserve the same
As your other daughter
Or your son
But what about me
If I try to tell you how
I feel you get angry and
Upset that I feel this way
Why can't you understand
But what about me
I can't understand why
My feelings make you
Angry and why I am the
One that always gets left behind
But what about me
Why don't you take me
With you or plan things
So that I can go with you
Or be more involved in your life
But what about me
It's like you don't know me
Or even care to know me
So I guess I'll just leave
You three alone
But what about me
Don't call me if you want
Someone to watch the animals
Or the kid until you include me
Because I want to be included
But what about me
I am no longer the watcher
I guess I will make it by myself
Until I feel I am accepted by the
Family I was born into
But what about me
Until then, I stand alone
poem by Tiana Webb
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Allow me to decide the course of my life
Allow me to decide the course of my life
He was a bit bulky little boy
Finding it difficult to get up
And walk on his own
When we, as parents, helped him
To get up and walk
He used to sweep aside
Our helping fingers
So that he could move around
On his already hurt bruised knees
He made at last his first step
When a tri-wheeler walk-aid
Was presented to him
Its colourful handle
With chiming bells hanging
Charmed him to put forth efforts
Towards walking
It was indeed a scene to witness
The struggle of that little cute baby boy
To walk on his own
It was a pleasure to watch him grow
Physically, mentally and emotionally
It was to my pride
That I hear often that
Elders appreciate his polite, gentle
And well groomed manners
He hardly complained
Probably, adjusting within himself
With the environment he is in
I had no occasion
To discipline him
As most often he was
Well conforming to our expectations
Now he stands taller than me
In every aspect
Walking in youthful gait
I need to raise my face
Whenever I talk to him
He is in the process of
Making a living
As very normal Indian parents
We started looking for
A suitable life partner for him
Assuming him to have understood
That we have a role in that
As per my observation
He reacted for the first time
With a firm invincible response to say
Allow me to decide the course of my life
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Another Try
Another try, I give again, I started shy, my heart started to mend.
It all looked great, but I could tell, something was wrong, as she started leaving her shell.
I was as blind as could be, I had no clue, I did not see, that this experience would be new.
The tension grew, as we fought more, this is something I cannot do, as I showed him the door.
He said no, as I told him get out, things went bad, as he started to shout.
I didn't know, what he would do, I started to show it, as my fear grew.
He knew this, as I walked the other way, then he kissed me, and I let him stay.
He said sorry, I was having a bad day, I forgave him, without delay.
This was a grave mistake, I realize now, he was just a fake, but his anger was real.
Not long after, he started it, I was being abused, as he started to hit.
I was starting to fear, him and his ways, he took away my support, as it started to fade.
I was running out of options, stay or leave, either way, my heart was going to be cleaved.
I was ready to leave, as he came to me, he brought me roses, and I succumbed to see.
That the decision I made, was not the right one, I am afraid, if it is already done.
The choices I made, the things I have done, my heart is breaking, as I am down to one.
So whatever you do, whatever you say, when starting new, watch how quickly it can change your day.
poem by Eric Maffettone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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