Who Am I?
By TinasHeart
This poem is dedicated to my beautiful 11 year old daughter. I'm sure many can remember feeling this way. Who Am I? Standing along the river bed under neath the old oak tree, hazy thoughts cloud my vision. Sometimes I feel so confused. I am no longer a shy little girl. Yet, I am not the woman I see. One minute I sit before the mirror, shining my lips and curling my hair. I feel so beautiful and all grown up. The next moment, I'm happily singing, jumping rope, and being a silly clown, tender, mirthful and glad like a child. Lord, who am I and what will I be? Will I be a bride and loving mother? I don't know what I will one day be. I will think about it on another day. For now, I will merrily skip on home, jump into Dad's arms and hug Mom. ©TinasHeart 930 01 Written January 17th, 2002 © on Jan 24 2002 03:03 PM PST 0 • 18 • 9
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"This poem is dedicated to my beautiful 11 year old daughter. I'm sure many can remember feeling this way. ..."