She searched her world for the perfect gift The soft cream and lavender appealed So she ignored the pain of the stickers And picked thistles from the field. She cheerfully sucked blood from pricked fingers And gathered a huge bouquet Before proudly delivering her present With her wish - "Happy Mother’s Day." No insult was ever intended But to her dismay and surprise Her offering incensed the recipient The flowers were thrown out and despised. "So that’s how you feel" she heard shouted "Giving me those thorny weeds. This garbage you’ve just dumped on me Is the last thing that anyone needs!" Perhaps no one stopped to consider That the gift was more than the flowers. The child felt her love was rejected And she cried for hours upon hours. She grew up, as most little girls do And vowed that she would be tough And never let on how it crushed her Knowing her love was never enough. But lonely’s a lousy companion So she allowed herself to pretend That someone would see she had value And her solitude at long last end. She offered her heart to a good man Hoping he’d heal the hurt of the years But he found no beauty in thistles Well-watered with her tears. So she’s again left wondering What’s her reason for being on earth When all that she is and possesses Is completely lacking worth.
Oh man, suthern. This moves me like few things ever could. "Knowing your love is never enough" - "all you possess lacking worth"... I am literally tearing just reading those lines. I can offer but my compassion and empathy. Beautiful but very sad poem. (((HUGS)))
[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 04-04-2000).]
on the threshold of a dream
She grew up, as most little girls do And vowed that she would be tough And never let on how it crushed her Knowing her love was never enough. But lonely’s a lousy companion So she allowed herself to pretend That someone would see she had value And her solitude at long last end. She offered her heart to a good man Hoping he’d heal the hurt of the years But he found no beauty in thistles Well-watered with her tears. So she’s again left wondering What’s her reason for being on earth When all that she is and possesses Is completely lacking worth. ------------------------
suthern, i read this several times over 10 mins ago and it still effects me deeply. you have written this with such pure sincere emotion. it is of perfection. extemely moving....I feel the emotions of this in your words... the wounding of a childs soul...its scars stay forever...how well i know...as the poet here MUST too...the words cut too deep for it not to be personal thank you for sharing this. take care, jm
..."she said,I dont know if I've ever been good enough...and I'm a little bit rusty... and I feel like my head is caving in... and I DONT KNOW IF I'VE EVER BEEN REALLY LOVED BY A HAND THATS TOUCHED ME...and I feel like somethings gonna give... and I'm a little bit angry..." Matchbox20
Member Rara Avis
suthern, I never experienced this, and was so well loved as a child, but your words were like a thorn piercing my heart. This is so sad, but you have conveyed the feelings so well in your poetry. Very well written Liz
Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
Suthern girl, if you say you got no worth again, I'm gonna spank you! Oh, sure, you'ld like that!!! Too many of us know how much beauty you have within. Don't let rejection get you down. Geez, even my mother told me she just wanted to be friends! Hang in there, girl
this poem is so powerful, as yours always are....really sad touching message....but now if its about you....then I will kindly (and not so kindly if it comes to that my dear friend *puts up her dukes*) you are worth more than I can say to *me*....great writing my friend
Member Rara Avis
Suthern, this incredible poem haunts me - lovelier than any thistle, but also more thorny. It pricked my heart, and brought tears to my eyes.
Your beauty shines through in your poetry, just as the beauty of the thistles can be seen. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before someone comes along who is willing to endure the thorns, for the chance to grasp the lovely thistle!
Suthern, you brought back a painful memory but in your sharing, made me realize that "things happen". I was brought up with love, but a child doesn't always know that what is beautiful to him or her, looks like something the cat drug in to others.
Your words are remarkable, as are you. Hugs,
Sunshine Look, then, into thine heart, and write ~~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
This is very moving. It reminds me of a dear friend with a heart full of love, whose heart has been crushed so many times she no longer believes in her own worth. It is the saddest thing I know, and your words express it beautifully. The metaphor of the thistle works beautifully here, and the story of the child's rejected gift ties in perfectly with the later events related. I am grateful to you for you sharing this. It is obviously deeply personal.
Catch the witness, catch the wit, Catch the spirit, catch the spit
on the threshold of a dream
Sunshine: I still look like something the cat drug in! LOL Thanks for reading!
Tom Sawyer: My heart (and understanding!) goes out to your friend... Some of us carry so much baggage it takes a parade of porters and it's not designer dresses! *S* Thank you for your kind comments! *S*