Linda I. Weischedel
Always Knowing - Poem by Linda I. Weischedel
Being sexually abused when I was younger,
I suffered for 7 years of not knowing my own sexuality.
By now getting help, and finally finding a man whom
I can call a Gentleman....
I finally know where my sexuality stand.
She's the girl in the crowd with the big
she's been told that it brightens up her face,
yet she's the Loner who's soul is saddenly lost
without a trace.
Her loving attention is relentlessly
her strong need to be loved by just one 'honest' person
subjects her heart into being used,
being hurt by both male and female has left her sexuality
being constantly confused.
She falls for the person's personality,
her heart's quest
for unconditional love is slowly diminishing
on this desired reality.
It's a true matter of trust - her willing, trusting heart shys,
though her keen, calculating mind always distrusts,
and perceives it to be nothing but proficiently timed lust.
She is such the jovial clown,
everyone honestly loves it when she is around.
She makes them smile, makes them laugh, allows them to
feel good about themselves inside.
Others who know and love her are totally baffled as well,
one minute she says she is gay,
the next she wants to be straight,
as for right now she believes that she is Bi,
could this mean that her newly gained confidence in herself
is just a self-sufficient mastered lie?
This poor girl is racking her brain,
actually sounds like she is driving herself
and her loved ones insane?
She's managing within herself each and everyday day,
I mean you can hear that the girl has indeed tried,
yet if they only knew the tortured confusion she holds at harbor,
most importantly the dismal,
obscure conclusion that this girl Linda has to choose to hide.
Comments about Always Knowing by Linda I. Weischedel
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl