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Permit Me

Looking for permission, I look everywhere.

I’m looking at you, can I be here? Or there?

I’m questioning my every move, each thought, every day

As I can not seem to simply find my way.

I ask my Mother to set me free, I ask my Dad to love me me me.

Can you please just tell me, is it OK to just be me?

I’m looking for you to show me how to be me right now?

No one gave me the Cliff notes on the My Life Show.

Who is it I have to know to just permit me to know…now.

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2 Responses to “Permit Me”

  1. Ann Davis says:

    Shalagh,

    I like your poem. It is challenging to know when to trust your instincts, the internal voice that seems genuinely yourself. There is often the question what would “so and so” say or do?
    I wish I had some grand wisdom to pass along. I don’t, but
    know that you have friends, even older ones, who travel the
    a parallel path to yours.

    Ann

    • Shalagh says:

      Thank you Ann. I have felt this in many ways during my life and didn’t really even know it. I’m doing better these days but this is what happens to children who are lost in their families and their lives. No positive mirroring and we’re lost behind the wall of mirrors. And I wanted to put words to the deep feelings of doubt that many of us feel but may not even be conscious of it.
      Love,
      Shalagh

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