Poems young adulthood
Like a Line - April 26, 1998 (19 years old)
Life is like standing in line.
You wait and wait ever so patiently for your turn,
For your opportunity to experience what this line entails.
There is no cutting in this line, and if there is,
It only leads you back to the end.
As you stand there, waiting anxiously to take even one simple step forward,
Your eyes wander—
Watching the people who cut,
Only to find themselves at the end again.
You watch the people beside you,
Anxiously taking that simple step forward.
You watch the ones just ahead,
Stepping into what you can only imagine,
Observing from this distant place you stand—
In this line of life.
You look down at your feet,
Fixed in this line, and it seems so insignificant.
But when you turn your head and look back at the long line behind you,
You see just how much you have accomplished.
You realize it may not have been every step that mattered most,
But what you learned from standing there.
Forgiveness - November 6, 2002 (24 years old) Revise: February 9, 2025
I want to forgive, but I don’t.
Forgiving means accepting, and I’m not ready.
I don’t want to.
I want to deny that anything is wrong.
I tell myself there’s no one to forgive.
That I’m not angry.
But I am.
I am weak.
And it’s easier to blame my weaknesses on my trials.
If I forgive, I have to let go of that blame.
And if I let go of the blame, all that’s left is my weakness.
I don’t want to be weak.
I have always thought I was strong,
But my weaknesses always surface.
I don’t want them to.
I want to be whole. I want to be free.
I want to be forgiving. And strong.
Parents Always Think They Know Best - Growing up - 1997 (18 years old)
Parents always think they know what is best.
They give you what you need and take what you want.
A question turns into back talk, and a reply into sassing.
You no longer do enough to please them.
The five-dollar toy turns into the five-thousand-dollar toy
That gives you freedom and fun.
The job you once played at, dressing up for,
Becomes the one you struggle to live off of.
The dollhouse that once sat on your dresser
Becomes the one you find yourself living in—
As you grow from the innocent five-year-old
To the daring teen
To the parent who now thinks they know what’s best.
The Race - 1996 (17 years old)
There was a little girl who had a race to run.
The finish line was far, but she knew it could be done.
Like a Maze - 1997 (18 years old)
Life is like a maze—
For every turn, you have to make a decision: left or right?
Yes, sometimes you may come to a dead end—
Maybe more often than others.
But with strength and determination,
You can turn around and go the other way.
Why? Because deep down in your heart,
You know something great and eternal is waiting for you.
So don’t give up and settle for those dead ends.
I know it’s hard, but pick yourself up,
Go back, and make the right decision.
Remember—left or right?
An Unknown Emptiness - August 17, 1997
There is something missing,
I am not quite sure what it is,
But I can feel it—not too far inside.
As the years go by,
It seems to be surfacing,
Slowly working its way to identity.
Making sure not to appear
Too soon or too late,
But at the perfect time—
A time only it knows.
I am not quite sure
When the right time is,
Or exactly what it is.
But it knows,
And I know it is there.
The Emptiness
A Mystery on This Earth - Estimated Date: Between 1996 and 2002
If I were a metal chain,
You would be my weakest link.
You make me weak.
You are the link to my largest fears.
You are a burden to carry and support.
I fight for control by forgetting you.
You are so weak, it takes more energy than I have to remember you.
I fear I don’t measure up to what is expected of me to carry you.
I don’t know why you exist.
What do you have to live for?
I am not sure what I have learned directly from you,
But from what you have created in my life.
I’m not sure how much I love you, or why.
I feel irresponsibly angry at you.
I fear that I must not be big enough to forgive.
I know you are not held accountable,
But why do I hold you accountable?