Stephanie Bird Poems

I sit in my room, listening to the rain.
My thoughts are a jumble, a tangled mess of a ball of string.
I come along, playing with them, like a cat.
Trying to untangle the string.
...

The weather outside is cold, like the inside of her soul.
She thinks it will get better, it will, she is told.
But who is she to believe when her mind is at fault,
and the whisper in the trees see 'cos they're old.
...

Behind the iron gates we sit,
Quiet as ever, not daring to make a sound.
I'm writing out my letters, bit by bit,
Kneeling on the dirty ground.
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When we are born, we all start out as caterpillars.
We can't fly and we need others to help us do everything.
We all look up to the tremendous butterflies and think
'Someday my turn will come and I will be like them'
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The worst mistake that I ever made was letting you all into my world.
But I’m here to thank you.
Thank you for ignoring me, not saying hello, when every morning I talked to you.
Thank you for neglecting me, excluding me, leaving me alone.
...