FRIENDS – A DAMAGED GIRL
By AnnaR
Apparently, in this confusing world
Of insects and toads,
There are mothers
Who eat their young.

I know and understand
This is not limited
To insects and toads -
But also includes human mothers.

Sometimes these mothers,
Instead of cannibalizing their young,
Just try to digest their minds
And sip away their daughters trust.

Is it better to be devoured
In a single gulp?
Or, have your mind slowly depleted
In little sips?

How much fear can a girl endure?
How many nightmare seeds can be planted,
To grow to monstrous heights
Every night?

Can a girl avoid nights
By trying not to sleep?
By being so tired
That she collapses on the pillow
Drifting into instant unsettling sleep?

Awakening groggy
Unsettled,
Un-rested,
But ready to face
another day.

A day lit with the sun
Of love, love
Chasing away all darkness
That clouds her mind
That gives her doubts.

Is she insane?
Has her mind been so tortured
That she can’t accept love
From any boy?
From those enemies.

Envious of the evening torture
Continuous hurting,
Never ending words
Planting the nightmare seeds
Spewing from the mouth of her mother.

Where can she go?
Where can she hide?
Who can she trust?

Her new friends
Show her love
In their kind words.


Her old friends
Accept her fears
As a part of her.

Maybe this is why she naps
So often in the day.
With a night light
Of the blazing sun.

And is this why dark and gloomy days
Are like being locked in a closet
Bleeding and hurting
From objects poked in her?

Her friends give her such love
That opens the closet door
And gives her hope
And a desire to join the world.


Is this what friends do?
Give you the strength
To face everything
And everyone?

How could any girl live
Without friends?
Forced to hide in that closet
Of broken memories.?

She couldn’t,
I no longer have to,
I have friends
Who I love.

The most incredible gift we are given
Are friends who love us and we can love.
Undeserving, to be cherished, given without guile
Without motives – other than love.


Friends , who are willing to strip naked
Discarding the clothing of conformity,
Revealing their inner self,
Their raw emotions, their fears.

And girls who truly know and accept love.
As our greatest gift we can give and receive.
Who judge not by what a girl has achieved
But what is in her heart.

I have the greatest friends in the entire world. Every day I thank God that I awaken to my world populated by my friends who I love so much and who have given me so much. The world is less scary because of them. This is a world where friends exhort you to a previous unknown level of perception and excellence and achievement. I love you all. Today I feel loved and beautiful.
©1997

The Merry Go Round
By AnnaR
Written during her 15th year- September 27, 2007.

There was the smell of rain in the air; the billowing clouds were pure white, no hint of an impending storm. The little girl trudged up the hill; kicking divots in the grass, not holding back, but walking with trepidation. She scuffed her little shoes but didn’t seem to care about such a trivial detail. She was wearing her favorite little dress. It was her swirly dress, the dress she wore when she thought of dancing -that seemed so long ago.
The hands she had held before the hill, her sisters, and dads, and granddads and brother were no longer there for her. She had to walk this hill alone. She leaned into the incline as she walked- unable to stand straight up and down, the angle was too steep.
She could hear the noise of merriment in the distance as she neared the crest of the hill. Perhaps it would be easier walking down the hill, she would feel rejuvenated.
At the top of the hill she looked down on the festivities. It was marvelous- there were balloons and little children running and laughing. The Faire was a whirlwind of excitement.
She felt the two quarters in her dress pocket- money for her ticket to ride the incredible merry go round. She smiled in anticipation. She could see the brightly painted horses, nostrils flaring; heads held high, teeth visible in a serious smile – for these were fast horses on the best merry go round the little girl had ever seen.
The music was exhilarating – a cacophony of sounds joyous and only heard on the merry go round.
The children of all ages were laughing and running and dancing and twirling- it was the most exciting sight the little girl had ever seen.
She looked around and saw a flat rock and she sat, not wanting to grass stain her pretty dress. Her legs stretched out before her, her shoes pointed a little inward as she demurely kept her knees together. The children laughing below gave no notice of the little girl sitting on the rock watching them, envying their carefree attitude- their excitement – their willingness to encompass the day with no thought of tomorrow – completely celebrating life in the here and now.
She sat on the rock for a long time – unaware of the passing clouds, the moving sun which had passed its zenith and was descending towards eventual nightfall and darkness.
She heard a rustle in the grass, a tentative footstep. Her friend Wendy had come up the hill.
“Hi sweetie, I saw you sitting there. Why aren’t you down at the faire?”
‘I thought I would just sit here and watch them having fun, I only have two quarters to ride the merry go round. It looks like the most exciting wonderful thing I have ever seen or ever experienced. I have wanted to ride that Merry Go Round every year- all my life. But, I am afraid.”
Wendy looked quizzically “Why are you afraid.”
“When I give the man the quarters and get on the Merry Go Round I am afraid it will be the best time of my life – it will fulfill all my hopes and aspirations, it will be equal to all my dreams – but when the quarters run out and the time to ride runs out the man will push the leaver and stop the merry go round and I will have to get off - I will have to get off and I will be sad cause others will still be riding.”
“So, what is the alternative? You can sit here and watch and never ride, or you can go down and ride the merry go round and live this incredible experience called life. Even knowing it must end it is so much better than just sitting here and missing out.”
Wendy reached out her hand, the little girl took it and arose and the two of them walked down the hill. The little girl was not alone.
When they reached the faire the ticket seller gave the little girl two tickets for her quarters – for her merry go round ride.
“Wait”, Wendy said. “Here are two more quarters for two more tickets, this should make the ride seem longer and I’d like to get a ticket for me to ride along a bit with you.”
Wendy and the little girl got on the merry go round. The little girl picked a big shiny brown horse with a red mane and fierce eyes, a serious horse born to gallop. Before the Merry go round could begin a shout came from across the midway _
"WAIT! I have a ticket I want to ride with her." It was Lizzy, the little girl's best friend. And right behind her was Mel waving a ticket, and behind them behind them was Cindy, and Sandy, and Jen, and Jane, and Hannah, and Rose, and Chloe, and Marimar, and James and Jazmine, and alee, and Jasmine, and Thomas, and Megan, and Priscy, and Deb, and Kayli, and Lisa, and BD Sara, and Sharon, and Val and NATE and.
The little girl knew she had done the right thing for she saw other friends standing in line to buy a ticket. She would not be alone on the most exciting time of her life. She no longer worried about the man who would tell her the time to ride was up. She would listen to the music and ride, ride, ride.
NOT THE END
This was written the day after I was informed at the doctor's office by a lot of my doctors, in response to my demand for information, that I had lived over one-half of my life. I was bummed. I wanted to give up. No one read my poems, I didn't know why I was here. And then Wendy spoke to me and a wonderful new friend Cindy came into my life and liked my poems. To be praised by a writer is the highest praise there is. I am still vain and I live for comments – but, now I really live for the joy of learning and writing. Comments about how I look and how my wig fits are unimportant now. What I write – my legacy – is important to me.

©1997

Tears

For a friend who I love who is crying now.

TEARS

byAnnaR


We need our tears
For they cleanse our mind
Helping us to look at our life
With a clear clean view.

I feel so sorry for
Girls who can’t cry
For their emotion wells up
Like a storm cloud.

Exploding emotions
Like lightening flashes
Leaving nothing but damage
Achieving nothing but noise.

One of our beauties
Is our ability to cry
To let tears flow
Down our cheeks.

Wrecking our mascara
Leaving a clown mask
Obscuring temporarily the beauty
Of the stained face.

We are vulnerable,
We are lovely,
We are alone,
We are little again.

All this is good.
Things that give us our heart,
Our identity,
As God’s most perfect design.

We have the gift of tears,
We can shed them for others,
For the inequities of the world,
And - when we are hurt.

I cry often.
I shed tears for little girls who are hurt,
Who are alone,
Who are afraid to cry.

I love my friends
Who proclaim they cry,
For they are real
And beautiful and wonderful.

Blessed are we who cry,
For we shall see the face of God
As he kisses our falling tears
And reminds us we are not alone.

I love you my sister.

©2007 Anna R. Haze