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‘The Tiny Me’
March 1st, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem – from the hip, without polish

‘The Tiny Me’

There’s a little me, who I hear, who I know…

She’s very small and quiet and she doesn’t show.

But she’s wise and brave and doesn’t give in.
While I struggle and fight and can never win.

Her voice is soft and often lost
amid the daily clamour.
She doesn’t seek a word of praise, competing for the glamour.

And she carries on regardless, in her child-like playful way,
never worrying or caring if her toils see light of day.

If you care to hear her speaking, you may have to listen hard.
But first please drop all your judgements and soften up your heart.

As the outside me grows older, she doesn’t seem to age.
And the outside me gets colder, she never feels my rage.

She just plods on in darkness, not seeking the smallest chink of light, while I struggle to be noticed and fuss and fume and fight.

I wish that I could be her, if only for a minute.

And then perhaps I’d free her …
… to live beyond my limits.

A quickfire poem by Kathie Kingsley-Hughes


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