Images in black and white, words upon a page.
I hear your loneliness and see your silent rage.
Some times your words are uplifting, sometimes they shine darkly.
But most of all they cry out saying “Look, I am just me.”
I sit and look at soulful eyes as I pen this write.
I imagine an angel in the day, a devil in the night.
You are a wondrous combination, both a woman and a child,
an open-hearted friend but a fighter when you’re riled.
You’re looking to feel understood, a part of being loved.
Accepted for just being Britty and not forced or shoved
into a box of someone’s making based on a bizarre
idea of who they think you should be and not who you are.
I sit and write this love poem. It’s written just for you.
It’s written from my heart and every word is true.
But it’s not a poem of romance or castles in the air.
It’s just one person saying that you’re valued…
…and I care.
To be loved by others, you must first love yourself…
Fall in love with Britty… I did.
Adding your comment:
... "It’s written from my heart and every word is true." I hate to repeat myself (
) but sometimes you do just to make sure that you're understood...
