I’m a lost cause, even to myself.
I’m at the lowest of lows, and screaming for help.
I’m a victim of a disease,
which turned all my wants into dire needs.
I've suffered in agony, I've lived in pain.
I've rarely seen sunny days, they all were full of rain.
I am an addict, I have no hope....
my life meant nothing if I didn't have dope.
I've lived on the streets, with nothing to eat.
I've lived a life of crime to make ends meet.
my life was full of guilt and shame.
for all the wrongs.....
I've had no problem pointing blame.
There was a point where this life
brought me to my knees.
Where I cried out in desperation to anyone or anything,
that could help me.
I’m a stranger in my own skin,
living a life full of sin.
Trapped by my addiction, I wanted a life,
where I could be me again.
Now that I’m free of the shackles and chains,
I’m starting to grow, and let go of the pain.
I’m finding myself, I’m learning more each day.
How can I tell you who I really am,
when I've almost always lived my life this way?
What I am learning and starting to see,
is that I’m not perfect, but I’m perfectly me.......
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Me by Christine Petsinger )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley