(Tonight I found this poem that I wrote long long ago on another April Day. I share it with my friends.)
I live in an invisible shell
Too thick to crack it seems.
I see out of it so very well
But can others see the real me?
I hammer my fists in this prison
Hoping soon a crack will appear.
I pray to God that for some reason
My constant plea she will hear.
To be a giggling bubbling sort
Full of love and in awe of life.
A breathing soul proud to be alive,
To be a real woman, mother and wife.
So hammer on this shell with me.
Perhaps together we will make a dent.
A child wants to grow, not just be.
But to become the person God sent.