I DID NOT ASK TO BE BORN

I DID NOT ASK TO BE BORN

I did not ask to be born,
nobody asked me first,
they placed me in this waiting world
and left me with its thirst.

I did not choose my face or name,
the road beneath my feet,
I did not choose the ones I’d lose
or strangers I would meet.

I never asked for sleepless nights,
or tears I had to hide,
or all the painful memories
that came and lived inside.

I did not ask for people
to bruise what they could not see,
then walk away so easily
and leave the hurt with me.

But somewhere in the darkest years,
beneath the weight I bore,
a little light kept whispering,
“You’re worth a little more.”

I did not ask to be born,
but now that I am here,
I’ll paint my thoughts in colours
and turn my pain sincere.

I’ll write the words that others lose
when sorrow steals their voice,
perhaps I never chose this life,
but living is my choice.

And when my final page is turned,
let this much still be known,
I made a garden from the ground
where nothing should have grown.

I did not ask to be born,
but I stood up just the same,
and left my poems in this world
so it remembered my name.