Poetry about being true to yourself

She is beautiful and awesome,
along with all souls,
yet she is doubtful and self-conscious
from the what she’s been told.

The kids on the bus,
and the kids in her class
recount all her faults,
right down to the last.

Only skinny girls are shown in
fashion mags and books.
These girls are all pasty
with blank stuffy looks.

Work must be done
to look like these girls.
10 lbs she must lose and
I must cut off her curls.

Be who you are,
Look like you do.
Know who you are,
and stay that way too.

We were not processed and assembled
on any conveyer or line.
We were created by God,
and HIS creations are sublime!

http://talesttttt.wix.com/danicasurette#

Seeking input on some TS poetry

Here’s what I started to write as part of the ending of my paper on Tourette Syndrome. These were the words I thought about as I read some of the frustrations people with TS live with. Does this apply to you? What would your reply be to this poem? Be inspiring. Think of what you would say if it were up to you to pump up this person’s self-esteem.

I have stood out in the crowd

Yet I have stood all alone
The way I move, The way I sound
That’s only what they see, and for what I’m known

Some glare at me with their angry looks
Others just choose to pass and look away
“I can’t stop, but I try really hard!”
I plead and tell them this every single day

What can’t they understand?
All I want is to just fit in.
I live with Tourette Syndrome
Will I ever truly win?

Visit me at my Embracing Difference page on Facebook for daily updates.

An original poem for my MAC son

Back in April, I decided to take part in a 30-day poetry challenge to honor National Poetry Month. I had to write an original poem for each day in April and post it to the Poetic Asides site. Here is a poem I wrote for my son Jacob.

No one can tell me how it happened.
This technical difficulty in your brain.
No one can point a finger or prove anything.
You are just one of those people that I didn’t know I needed in my life, but now I can’t function without.

You are my computer kid with the brain glitch, nicely tucked away inside your hard drive.
And here I am, so thankful that you are a MAC and not a PC because you are strong and capable, and not easily broken.
I may not know what makes you tic, but I do know that whatever it is, it’s perfectly you and I would have you no other way.

Poetry: “Light at the end of the tunnel”

I wrote this about 10 years ago, shortly after my son was diagnosed. We’ve come a long way since then. At 17, he barely tics, the RAGE is gone and he’s doing well in school. I hope that this shows that you are not alone in the struggles that you face. Know that there is light at the end of the tunnel….

TS
“Why do you keep on clearing your throat? Are you feeling sick?” I would say.
And so, it continued…again and again.
Day after day after day.

Then, one day it stopped…and then you began
shrugging and jerking your head.
And then, you started hurting yourself
and picking your nails ’til they bled.

The blinking is hard; it’s like a strobe light
is flashing in front of your eyes.
I can’t seem to calm you, when you get upset,
no matter how hard I try.

Mothers all want to take care of their kids
and give what they need everyday…
to kiss all their boo-boos, whenever their hurt,
and make all the pain go away.

Oh, how I wish I could magically fix
all the things that are so hard for you.
I’m so sorry to say, my sweet special child,
that is something I just cannot do.

But, I’ll always be here, whatever you need.
I’ll give comfort when your poor heart aches.
And I promise I’ll always give you my best,
though I know I will make some mistakes.

Remember, we’re in this together
and through the years, we both will grow.
I know you’ll do fine, my dear child…
and I love you, more than you know.

A poem I wrote for my son

Please Tourette’s let his body have some peace tonight.

Please Tourette’s, let him just lay still for once.

Please let him know a state of relaxation, a place of calm predictibility, just for a moment before he goes to sleep.

Won’t you take a break, for just a while — so he can take a break for just a while — before you resume your endless control of his body?

Or better yet, how about you leave forever, and take the bullies, and starers, and whisperers with you, and let this one be free?

Yes, that I would love to see.