standing at the window

I found this wonderful blog the other day - Life at Willow Manor.  Tess writes the most awesome poetry and she has her own "reader" - RAD Stainforth.  Take a read (and listen).  He has the most wonderful voice and it reminds me of growing up before there was television in South Africa and we listened to the radio.  So I was scrolling through and reading her previous postings and then came across another blog of hers that encourages people to write poetry.  A great concept where you write a poem about a picture, so I am giving it a try.  Perhaps Tess will even read my poem (if I can do the linking correctly).  People make comments and everyone is so encouraging and friendly (like all people should be).  This is going to be fun.

will it never stop?

this sadness and sickness 

i endure

day after day

with

months turning to years

standing at the window

another clinic

another town

it does not really matter

where i am

i am alone

always alone

with my disorder

standing at the window

it must be autumn

the leaves are beautiful

the colours of

rust and

blood

and the promise of

the cold to come

i am always cold

what happened to me?

to my ambitions

and dreams

why do i find it so difficult

to see myself 

like others see me

"beautiful and elegant (but too thin)"

why when i see my reflection in the window

(the mirrors they now hide from me)

am i so distorted, ugly and

fat?

standing at the window

cold and alone

waiting for winter

Magpie Tales