Thursday, April 16, 2009

POEM: Pygmalion

As your Eliza Doolittle
I had to find the middle ground
when you were done with me
from the heights you flung me
you let me fall
because I couldn’t fly

but if you’d only held my hand
a little longer
I could have at least hovered
if not so high
then farther than I was able
to make it on my own

A stone once carved can’t go back
to being a rock
to continue life
it must be beheld
eyes upon it
once you turn your back
it is left deformed by the chisel
unable to pick up the pieces
chipped away
now dust


Chuck Dilmore said...

this is sad, but very well written.

your readers hope that this feeling
is but fiction, that you never-ever
feel dropped, neglected.

Kayleigh said...

Thanks Chuck -- actually, there was a time in my life when I had a beloved mentor that was disappointed in me. I was young then and took that very much to heart. This is sort of my way of reflecting back on that and realizing that he had an image of who I was that didn't necessarily fit the reality...nor was it up to him to create such an image in the first place. He showed irresponsibility.

Anyway, thanks again!