Talking to Myself


Funny child, strange child,
telling me to cry my tears
in public places, to stand
tall and face the laughing,

You, whose tears run down
an unlined face free to
choose any path, who are
you to tell me not to hide

My shame years before
we ever met? and I now
hearing your words as
though for the first time

Shake my graying head,
and the rest of me shakes
with it, my shame rolling
right down to my feet,

While my tears, caught in
deep channels carved by
unforgiving years, roll
silently down my tired face.

Funny child, you thought
you understood where you
were going and who would
be always at your side.
Look at us now.

Bruised Heart, Broken Spirit, Lonely Soul