Friday, April 3, 2009

Outsider

They play their games, fort
and club, with signs no girls allowed.
They talk around me, over me, through me,
pick up a game where they left off.

They have a sport, “let’s break her now”
they know I’m quick to tears. But mostly
they ignore me, don’t give me a thought,
act shocked when they see I’m there.

Time has mellowed them
I’m not so quick to tears
I understand, it’s really not their
fault, they were born into that group
so I was born to be the whole number one.
They try to work me into their lives
and I love them all for trying, but still,
I don’t understand why I still find myself
searching for my way in.

Judy Roney
April 2, 2009

2 comments:

Mary said...

Judy, this is such a poignant poem.... Sometimes there IS no way in. Sometimes being born into a group IS the only way in........points well made.

Victoria said...

Sad hard poem, especially the part about the early hurts.