Finding Fortitude
I was never his princess,
just a girl who seemingly
couldn't draw, sing, write,
nor behave properly in church.
His frown seemed constant,
his smile and laughter
lasted as long as it took
for the front door to close.
His father was supposedly the same,
often tried imagining him as a boy,
alone, tears in his eyes,
telling himself he didn't care.
I almost surrendered, gave in
to negativity inside and out,
yet chose to fight; perhaps it was
the rebel '70's that saved me,
the beauty of voices raised
and youthful opinions taking on authority.
When he died, I wasn't bitter. Just sad.
I was never a beautiful princess,
but I did find my crown.
by Margaret Bednar, October 13, 2019
crown, fire... struggling with that last word. Originally had "voice" but I used it in the fifth stanza and I don't like to repeat words (unless it works well for the poem - here I don't think it does.) So I'm contemplating the ending still...
This is a reaction to a line in the poetry book "
Milk and Honey" by Rupi Kaur. This is her first poetry book and if you follow the link to Poets United,
HERE, you can read a few poems from her collection. I know I will be ordering her book. The lines I chose to reflect upon are the first two of the following poem:
(i)
You tell me to quiet down
cause my opinions make me less beautiful
but I was not made with a fire in my belly
so I could be put out
I was not made with a lightness on my tongue
so I could be easy to swallow
I was made heavy
half blade and half silk
difficult to forget
and not easy for the mind to follow.
(by poet Rupi Kaur)
linked with "
Poets United - Wild Fridays"
