First Days
by Manasa Atyam

Behind my back, soft words pass from mouth, to ear
Soon the whispers flow in the gentle wind to my lonely spot

As they pass, they drop those painful selfish words
They go down my back leaving shivers
They go through my stomach leaving butterflies

Soon they reach their destination: my heart
As they pass they leave a mark, one that I will never forget

So tightly it clutches that ball of feelings
Breaking it into a million pieces
Not knowing where to go they stay inside of my miserable body

From time to time they whisper
And make me remember
The me that used to sit alone
On the days I first started school

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Poem Copyright 2008 by Manasa Atyam


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