I wrote this poem in 1981 while I was going through a difficult and very busy time
in my life. I had recently been divorced, was attending college, writing feature stories
and news stories for two newspapers, working in a community center as an advisor
to senior citizens and as a weekend rental agent in the garden apartment complex
where I live. The poem is one of thousands of published and unpublished
poems and stories that I have saved throughout the years:
I'm supposed to be
Unhappy
Because
I lost something precious
And because
I had to
Postpone my goals.
So how come
This "unhappy" person
Today
Wrote poetry
Read
Went to school
Learned about a new
And fascinating
Theory of personality;
Talked to one person
About her pleasure
And to another person
About his pain?
How come
This"unhappy" person
Is lying on this comfortable bed
In the middle of the night
Writing in this book
About how
In this "time of crisis"
Flowers are growing
Through the cracks
In her broken heart?
