Poem: Confuse Child

Photo Credit: Max Titov

They say, “I am a confuse child,

Medicine will change everything and “it did!”

They say, I am brave, when I speak up—loud

“I am blessed and God, is my everything!”

But deep down inside, ‘I am fragile,

Even when I am afraid, I try to prove myself right,

Prove them wrong, to see the real me,

That God is my everything:

Yet, in their eyes—I am imperfect,

Trying to be, perfect:

They see me as a broken child closed in;

Hold to past ‘haps,’ and the message,

“Jesus is the King, is frightening”

And they are so right, “Who am I—to them?”

“I will always be that broken kid!”

Empress Journee