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  Mar 2015 Gwen Johnson
Madeline
“You are worth more than the marigolds”
I am assured by my loving mother as a child
I believe her because the beauty in everything flow’rs and flourishes
when you’re young
The world is yours to take, everyone is yours to meet, everything is yours to do;
and I believe her.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
My first friend at school proclaims,
and I believe them.
We’ve tackled ***** training and preschool, now onto the playground and phonics!
We run and run together, taking the world like we’ve
whispered once before;
and I believe them.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
The middle school test scores announce,
and I believe them.
Primary school is in the past and I’m ready for responsibility!
I put on makeup to feel pretty, care about my grades more than the teachers believe and flash my smile to the boys who spit “compliments” at my feet;
and I believe them.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
but.. I don’t believe them anymore.
I’ve gained just enough confidence to smile at everyone in the halls in case they are having a bad day.
Suddenly my youthful euphoric vision is graffitied with hateful words and violence.
I run and constantly chase the innocence of the world,
being surrounded by darkness.
My self esteem has hit an all time low. Why is the world this way?
My friends and I chase what we used to believe and end up in deep holes;
and I don’t believe them anymore.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
And it doesn’t matter.
I have lost all hope of finding that beauty.
My heart is an aching mess of “I love you”’s
But all I hear is “you are meaningless”
Slowly these phrases of deep hate sear into my soul
I hear them every day and every night
You are meaningless
You are not worthy
You could not possibly be good enough
Until I wake up one dismal morning to realize that I have been defined by the ones around me.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
..and enough!
Because even my friends who say I’m worth something turn around and sneer at others like they can’t too be loved.
Because while the world screams “I hate people” I whisper
“but I don’t”.
But that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things
because we’ll find someone who loves us, right?
No.
Our words between just us mean nothing if we spin around and
spit in others’ faces.

And we know we hurt because we’ve been hurt but we don’t stop, none of us stop.

I dream of a world that screams a vulnerable
“I love you”
out into the world instead of a pulsing
“I hate you”
And a world that remembers that we are all worthy of love and not only the kind that makes you blush.

“You are worth more than the marigolds”
The phrase I’ve heard since I was in my mother’s gentle hold
can only mean so much when you think you’re crumpled.
Stashed away until you’re needed
always feeling so defeated
but the truth
not told enough
to our weakened souls
We are all worth more than the marigolds
Gwen Johnson Jan 2015
I'm not a doll
I don't belong in a box with a label
I'm not a puppet
Don't try to control me
I'm not anything but myself
I am an individual
I defy society's pressure
To be anything but myself
I won't be labeled
Or controlled
Or molded into somebody else
I'm proud to be myself
Don't insult me for it
Because to be someone I enjoy being
Is far from an insult
Gwen Johnson Jan 2015
I'm always in the way
It doesn't matter what I say
I have no power
I'm just a child
but I'm not as cute
I'm a teen
I'm in between
Always in between emotions
But the difficulties
They're constant
Gwen Johnson Dec 2014
We crumble and fall
While trying to prove we're alright
We live behind a wall
Because we're scared of the outside
We breath in our tears
So we can smile
We name others as fake
To replace the name
We're taught to fight
And we forget to love
Only as we die
Do we learn to live
Because living is less accepted
Than to merely exist
And living is just the start
To defying this game
Because to live as we want
We have to rewrite the game
Gwen Johnson Dec 2014
I always liked when it snowed
Because no matter how cold it was outside
I'd always have somewhere and someone
to keep me warm
And no matter how little I had
I'd always have something to give
And I'd wear a bow
Because the gift of family was enough
Why isn't it always like this
Gwen Johnson Nov 2014
I wonder what will become of me?
If I'll ever be what I want to be
Could I ever be looked up to?
Gwen Johnson Oct 2014
Just a stupid morning
Of sticking to routine
Just a tired morning
Not getting any closer to my dream
Just a boring morning
Out of bed
Dressed
Breakfast
Out the door
Is this how it is to live
Or am I not living at all
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