Changed?

Changed: A letter to a pessimist

I am not who I was
yesterday.
How can you say
she is still who she was
before rehab, before finding God,
before support, pride, and self-respect,
before she was needed by other women
to help them climb out of the pit?

How can you say she won’t make it?

How can you look through your bifocals
and not see this woman's potential?
How can you berate me for seeing all sides of her story,
being naive for thinking she has a chance?
Aren’t you, at times, effective
and at other times
useless? 

Aren’t we all?

Who would we be if raised differently,
without a decent parent,
with one too many tragedies in our past,
without another set of hands
to help with the kids,
with parents too wrapped up in their lives
to give a damn,
or one parent without a second paycheck
in the household till?

If we can't understand this, who will?

I mean, what do we really gain
by withholding our support?
What do you gain for your pessimism?
Does her failure make you taller?
Does mine?

I hope not.  I'd like to believe
even you can change. 

But as yet,
I'm having my doubts.



SWPoet

This poem is dedicated
to those who are trying,
those who fail and try again,
and for the rest of us who are rooting for you.
Just remember, a pessimist is just one more person
trying to change, but just too afraid of uncertainty
to believe it can really happen.

Lets show them.