SESTINA OF FREEDOM

***note: this is one of the poems I wrote in high school for our poetry portfolio...I am posting this and others from that time (almost a decade ago) in the hopes of (a) showing my progress, (b) filling up the space, and (c) likely eliciting a few laughs***

My parents raised their voices louder still—
My sister hid herself in her cold room,
My other sister to the corner hid,
My brother tried to laugh away the pain
He felt—they had to get from me a hug.
I have to show them somebody still cares.

To be the oldest is to mask my cares,
To make their racing, aching hearts be still.
I seldom get a single, honest hug—
I give them out, but when inside my room
I pray for God to take away the pain
That somewhere in my heart is deeply hid.

I’ve got my own doubts, too, although they’re hid
With all my fears, and dreams, and joys, and cares;
They all are hidden wherever the pain
Is locked away. I cry within the still
And quiet peace I find inside my room,
And when I pray, God gives a loving hug.

But, somewhat out of practice, that one hug
Gives me a feeling that it should be hid
And ne’er escape the confines of my room.
So off I go, forgetting all those cares,
Pretending that my racing mind is still,
Pretending that I never felt that pain

At all. But now the greatest source of pain
Cannot be fixed, e’en with a godly hug.
The future looks so bright, and yet I still
Feel like my aspirations should be hid.
Can I tell you a secret? No one cares
About the goings-on inside my room.

My life’s about creating bigger room
For family members who are still in pain…
I’ve got to show them somebody still cares
About them enough to give them a hug.
If that means my own goals have to be hid,
Then so be it. I’ll sacrifice them still.

Someday my room won’t hide that godly hug.
Someday my pain won’t have to still be hid.
Someday my cares and worries will be still.