- I’m in a group for Women w/ PTSD. Our assignment (aka commitment) this week was to say something about a gift that our trauma caused us to have. This past week has been mostly about waking up from a nightmare called, “The nightmare: The Day Trump Stole the Election.” Maybe it’s an unending movie, think, “Groundhog Day.”
I’ve been ranting, and raving… writing half hearted poetry, unending essays,
integrating the trauma that caused the trigger (I hate that word) that Trump
managed to set off. I’ve been posting like some posting robosomething to this
blog and my Facebook page… Down with Trump, who by chance will NEVER,
EVER be my President.For my homework the 1/2 done poem:
To those of you who say I am sick, I say…
I am sweet, I am honest,
I am up front
and in your face.
I can be brutal,
I am brave.
I have courage,
to talk about things
you consider stupid.What you see as sickness in me,
I see as a social malady
After all consider this,
It is America
that created me (1962-??)All you see
in the reflection of me
is YOUR truth
& you’d rather deny that be.I am strong,
I shine brightly,
I do not choose my battles lightly.I would not count myself
As holier than thou
I challenge your thought,
Do you think of circumstance
that cannot be bought?I’d like to think
that you are closer
to feeling the tear
that fell down your cheek.I will scream
I will shout
I will do what it takes
to get the message out.That people need to think again,
If they think “The Don” is going to win.
I have grit
I’m willing to fight
Any man willing to grope
and grin.It’s not funny
Please do not laugh
I’ve got gifts a plenty
they’ve helped me down my path.Gifts my abuse gave to me
- Strength
- A particularly big mouth
- The gift of the poet?
- A love of reading & writing
- A lot of empathy
Imagination
Sometimes, Patience
11/09/2016 © Peggy Ann Rowe, All Rights Reserved
The Nightmare: “When Trump Stole the Election”
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