Unknown Friend

Feeling very upset,
Or very happy or contemplative,
I sit down and rant,
As I rant, I rhyme too.
Putting my thoughts in order,
Creating a poem.
There,
The storm of emotions has passed.
And I have created,
This creature of a poem.
I read it again,
There's flaws, flaws, flaws.
But I cannot doctor this child,
She's unreasonable;
Not making sense in places,
Violating grammar rules in others,
But it's my child,
I wouldn't have her any other way.
Next steps,
I want to share her,
But is she ready for the world?
What if no one likes her?
Or there's judgement?
Oh god, judgement.
Will she be able to handle it?
Can I handle it?
Does it matter?
She must see the day.
She'll get better, stronger,
No matter what comes her way.
So I hold her fingers and carry her outside,
People see her, some like her,
Some even understand her!
Unknown friends, foster parents,
Have made poems,
Out of loquacious monologues.
Shraddha
16.03.2014