How Wretched I Feel
How wretched I feel when everything starts changing
The flowers blooming, the leaves awakening, the animals coming out of hibernation
How wretched I feel when new things are coming alive and I am just the same
But am I just the same?
Or have I blossomed on the inside, going from child to adult, maturing in ways that no one but myself can see?
Or have I grown at all?
Is this all a charade?
Or am I still playing my old game of being who I'm not?
Am I the one sitting before this paper?
Or am I the paper itself?
How wretched I feel when everything starts changing and for me the world is standing still
Relationships becoming more complex
How I yearn to know if all I dream will remain that
Just a dreamless sleep of people growing old
As I look through this book that is my life
Or is my life still developing in that space that is my mind?
How wretched I feel to see that I have not yet blossomed into the woman that I will someday become
Is that her I see standing in the doorway to the future?
Goddess, she's beautiful
Those eyes, those lips, such pretty highlights in her hair
Wait a minute, that's how I look now
And that must be a mirror she's standing in
I can no longer say to myself how wretched I feel
For I am myself
I am beautiful with all the powers of a woman
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