It’s a journey through my thoughts, emotions, despair, hope, fear, love, loss.
FOR MY MOTHER
(I understand now.)
Don’t take my picture for I fear
You will see that age is creeping up on me
My waistline no longer as slim as once it was
Nor my jawline quite as taut.
The lines of laughter and sorrow have left their mark
And I am searching for me.
Life hasn’t been so kind of late
Yet I am still me, you see
Somewhere inside lies the truth
Of who I will be.
For I grow, I learn
I become comfortable again with who I am
And who I am yet to be.
When the ravages of illness have finished with me
And I am free at last
To shed this skin of life
Into the sun of a new day.
“When I Was Not Myself”
by Marta Moran Bishop
and two poems by two authors
Can be found at: