I am two years old,
When my life begins to unfold.
The cold white sheets rustle under my skin.
While the uncertain shaky hands of my kin
Brush against my face,
Wishing I was any other place
Than this chilly hospital room.
The pricking of needles relentless;
Bringing with them, a sobbing mess.
Crying and begging them to stop,
No one considers my reaction over the top.
In my head, always thinking "What good is this to me?"
My hope never fails to say, "You'll see."
IV bag, tubes leading to my arm,
Needle taped down to avoid causing harm.
In the playroom, attached to my father’s hip
I manage to locate the pirate ship.
All of the pirates were sick like me,
All getting nauseous on the sea.
Nobody seems to understand why,
The playroom is the only way to silence my cries.
It entertains me for hours,
I pretend the dolls have super powers.
They could see for miles and miles.
I was broken meanwhile.
What would the outcome be?
There was no other answer than "You'll see."
Many a month goes by,
And I am left with a prosthetic eye.
I am blind, my world is split in half
A fraction of tears shed on my own behalf.
What once was, is now gone.
This half broken baby sings a half broken song.
Turning my head all the way over
Having to strain to see that four leaf clover.
"I couldn’t cope; how does she?"
The only answer is, "You'll see."
Every dreaded day at this miserable school, people will stare.
"Why worry? Don't hide in your hair!"
Of course I'm going to care.
I am twelve years old now,
Ten years gone and done.
My existence is anything but fun.
My life is a mess,
I'm anxious and stressed.
Don't look at me,
My face is creepy.
I am unloved, uncared for, rejected.
God has made me defected.
Sure, I have friends.
But do they really like me?
I am not the most striking.
"Is this attitude just a phase?"
I guess, just wait and you'll see.
I am now fourteen,
Things are confusing.
Even when I think I'm winning,
People are horrible, so judgmental and cruel.
I seriously must look like a fool.
Maybe makeup can fix that,
I don’t really know.
I guess I can give it a go.
Maybe it can hide my self-hate.
I doubt it.
I really need help before it's too late.
Maybe I'll get better.
I guess you'll see.
I am now sixteen.
You wouldn't believe the things I have seen.
I see so much more than I once did,
Things have become clear and candid.
Though I am partially blind,
I have realized there are so many kind
People who can love me for who I am.
I have learned to take a stand
Against anything depressing
And the self-hate progressing.
I am stronger-willed than I once was
In myself, I've learned to trust.
I no longer am confused.
I am happy, and almost amused.
Never again will I be drug down
Upon my head I have placed a crown
Of love and confidence.
So thank you, to the play room
That distracted me from my doom
Of hating myself for years.
I learned to face my fears.
This half broken baby now sings a victorious song,
Revealing the inner pirate that was here all along.
Once on the ship, I fell in the sea.
But the experience is what created me.
I have overcome the most excruciating obstacle
No longer is my life a self-diagnosed debacle.
Things are clearer once you take a step back like me.
Just take your time,
And you'll see.