Dear me
By Lee-Anne Ford
Ripped from mother at birth
Questions of what you are worth
Tipped to new parents
To reduce their laments
Hiding early reading
Where is this leading
It led to you, beautiful girl
Let books open your world
Old before your time
On prose, text and rhyme
This award, that award, receive
Step forward, you’re not a thief
That friend who played to hate your guts
Heartbreak of a thousand cuts
You learned for yourself
Not to compete against stealth
Broken home, twixt mum and dad
No matter what, you weren’t bad
Teenage rebellion, no, it was PDA
Not teenage hellion, it was just your way
The Bolshie strike was your only tool
To make them, all of them, listen to you
Dear me, my girl, recast it all
Be not held in rejected thrall
You are always, have always, will always be
Dear me
Want the whole Anthology? It’s here.
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