Confession Poem by Diana van den Berg

The older I grow
the more I know
that I don’t know.

I have always been careful of saying
that I know how somebody feels
but I have always felt that I do –
but how can I be so arrogant
as to think I can creep
into the mind and heart
of a lifetime of living
of another being,
no matter who?

I am forever thinking and saying
that I understand animals
far more than I understand people
so how dare I have the right
to think that I know how a person
feels
or
doesn’t at all?

I have always been
so ready with well-intentioned advice
when I thought it was sought
and it is so difficult to hold back
when one was born with a blackboard behind
and books and eager faces in front.

So, I hereby confess
that I don’t know nor understand the woes behind
that carefully orchestrated smile,
that turned back,
that stark stare,
and that there are so many heartaches of others
that I simply
am powerless
to fix.

How much I have lost
thinking I know
what I
never
will.

(1 June 2013)