Left-Handed Poem (Change)
With thanks to Mark Levine and his poem “Poem For The Left Hand”
I am all that’s left.
Behind, half of me. I shall not want.
But I will take. Not out of greed.
But out of false hope.
This is my debut. I now live a life of lies.
It’s something I was told never to do.
It’s bad, will get me in trouble.
Acceptance was more important.
The things I liked were wrong. Not right.
According to the important cliques.
So I created a new identity.
Made friends under false pretenses
Everything was finally going my way,
But my way was something I would soon regret.
My new friends pressured me. A lot.
Made me do things I knew was wrong.
Pushed my lying as far as it could go,
One night, they even got me to pull a prank on one of my old friends.
As we got ready to put the plan into action
Something went wrong, and there was screaming.
Lots of screaming. Sirens. Shouting. Crying.
I don’t remember much of what happened.
For that was my old identity. I created a new one. Another lie.
With thanks to Mark Levine and his poem “Poem For The Left Hand”
I am all that’s left.
Behind, half of me. I shall not want.
But I will take. Not out of greed.
But out of false hope.
This is my debut. I now live a life of lies.
It’s something I was told never to do.
It’s bad, will get me in trouble.
Acceptance was more important.
The things I liked were wrong. Not right.
According to the important cliques.
So I created a new identity.
Made friends under false pretenses
Everything was finally going my way,
But my way was something I would soon regret.
My new friends pressured me. A lot.
Made me do things I knew was wrong.
Pushed my lying as far as it could go,
One night, they even got me to pull a prank on one of my old friends.
As we got ready to put the plan into action
Something went wrong, and there was screaming.
Lots of screaming. Sirens. Shouting. Crying.
I don’t remember much of what happened.
For that was my old identity. I created a new one. Another lie.