SMALL POEM

Every year I wake up on the day I was born
Not to find gifts of gold, dresses or toys
But to hear foul words of every kind
O how I wish I had much more

I try to hold my cries until the midnight falls .
Still I am not sad with anyone or god
For I shall know that I will overcome all this.
But for now I wait and see How my life unravels
Waiting for the day all this ends .