It is strange how I have managed
To grow wings when before
all I could grow were thorns.
I guess I just let myself show,
I tore the curtains apart
And the sun came into the room,
Warm and reviving.
Now I no longer blame me at nights,
people seem less frightening
and the tone of my voice is stronger.
I can laugh loudly or gently or unexpectedly,
Whenever I want, with out caring
Whether they find it funny or not.
My laugh comes from within
And you can tell from my eyes
That I’m finally happy with myself.
I have accepted who I am.
Ivy Christou
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-evolution-of-a-cactus/
