Sometimes an image catches you, is immediately translated to a person or story of the past.
It happened this time.
As if I was transported back in time, with a magnifying glass.
Oh, I knew what had happened.
I was there.
Young, naief, far too kind and sweet.
The girl that was told she was not handsome at all, but was sweet and kind.
The girl who also heard at least once every day of every year, that she was no good.
Nothing would become of her.
I ignored the basics of my existence for so many years, that I don't have money at all.
Can't realize my dreams because of lack of money, and can't even throw a party when my pension starts at the end of this month.
But I am lucky to be one of those people who don't know self pity, and certainly doesn't need the pity of others.
I have a roof, sometimes a nice meal, and some wonderful friends.
The kind that use me and then throw me aside and forget about me I have left behind.
Except the ex in the house.
My excuse in this case? Housing shortage.
But I still have my dreams.
Very persistent dreams, they are.
That small house..somewhere, maybe between the mountains and the sea.
I can do without people around me.
Done that...
So the photo caught me.
The spitting image of a former friend.
Who used me to perk up his ego, have someone to talk to,
have someone to look down on,
someone who listened to what he had to tell.
I was used to being told I was no good,
so when he did I just ignored it.
Think that was my strength and that was what bothered him.
Oe way or another I was me and he had to deal with it.
The day he told me I was not able to understand how an organ worked,
I could tell him I played the organ, even at christmas mass, in the church,
and at school. He was so busy he never realized that.
Maybe that was the moment I understood it was always about him,
and never about me.
Unintentionally he made me aware of how people use me.
And how easy they forget me.
So a poem about him.
Was about time.
Read >>> here <<<
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