I use to sit there
in the very back of your closet.
I knew nobody would look for me.
I'd just sit there
and smell your new clothes
and cry.
It didn't seem fair
why I had one pair of pants
and three shirts
(that rarely saw a washing machine) .
I know you said you ''needed'' them.
You had to look good
at the bar.
After all, why would I need new clothes?
I never went anywhere...
except school.
And they wondered why
I wouldn't talk to people.
Even the ''retarded'' girl
told me I was weird.
I still don't like shopping
for myself.
I never want them to feel
the way I did
while I was hiding in that closet.
Mary Nagy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hiding-in-the-closet/
