Pretty Petty’s Poem for the Disabled
Hello Pretty Pets, how are you doing?
Let us introduced ourselves: we’re Amanda, James, Anna, Abdul, Joseph, Jesselyn, Mahreen, Tim, and Nicholas; we’re poets. This is a very special issue or version that we’re doing. Nicholas, James, Tim, and I are disabled or handicapped too. If you want to know more about us, Amanda wrote a very powerful paper about “Being Handicapped”. Just click on this link: http://beinghandicappedessay.blogspot.com. In 2001, Amanda discovered poetry by an accident. I’ll be doing this issue.
On a personal level, this poem tells what we, the handicapped, go through. Yes, I was young; it still hurts to this day. At the end, I’ve changed, and you’ll understand what I mean. Enjoy.
A Broken Mirror
By-Amanda D. Petty
Water had a date with my lungs, at twenty-two months,
No walking, impaired speech, living in a power wheelchair,
My lifetime broken mirror.
Depression.
Darkness creeps into my life, as mocking begins.
Feeling an atom tall, as tears climb down.
Rolling away with a flood following me.
Helpless.
A black hole sucks my name in, as name-calling enters.
Swirling into a dark abyss, as pointing fingers at me plays.
Raining from my hurt eyes, my pillow overflows with the harm.
Worthless.
A black rose shows the damage as “the bird” appears.
With the jet-black thorns stuck in my heart, I made an ocean,
The pathway of real pain followed to my bed.
Hopeless.
Thinking to myself, I need to change the mirror.
“How?” I asked this in my heart.
“Father, bequeath me.” I plead.
Transformation.
A new mirror is building before me.
I’m staring at it for years,
I see a completely different woman.
Morphing.
A few words falls into my lap; I look at them,
Wondering, is this my calling in life?
Searching in books, doing my research.
Alive.
Becoming zealous each time I write:
Stanzas, metaphors, similes, tone, my friends.
Beyond happiness, I discover.
Ardor.
Hiding a poet coming out to the world.
Creating an ever-lasting business,
Changing my heart, mind, soul, and Spirit.
Emancipation.
Freedom, real independence, I have.
No wheelchair, no handicapped.
A moment of pain, disappeared.
Whole.
Succor unknown faces with my poetry.
A deeper understanding of people’s needs.
Hidden emotions, God’s Words in my poems.
A new mirror appeared.
An Uplifting: We truly want to thank you for reading this. We’re promising, we do know how you truly feel. It will get better, don’t give up. We know some days are bad: physical or emotional or both. On those days, you want to die. We know that firsthand; what help us the most is God. We hope this issue will help you. Just don’t give up. Heavenly Father knows your pains; maybe that’s why we’re here, giving you strength for a new hour. We have a song for you; . My friend, we really do know how you feel.