The shy pansy

(I wrote this at about 8yrs old)

I hide in the marigolds

and among the roses

I'm a very shy pansy

If I were with my own kind I would not hide

but as I'm alone

I will hide away

Please put me with the other's

Please

I beg

I'm scared here

I'm not happy

I will die if I don't have water

I've held onto all the poems if you can call them that, they are more a jumble of words

but even then on some level 50yrs ago I must have known I was different but looking at my poem book now most of them and my stories seem to have isolation, difference and not fitting in as the main thread. Maybe it is time to take a good look through them with a better understanding of a) being an adult and b) a better awareness of mental health, so maybe I will be sharing more thoughts of an 8yr old girl who was a round peg in a square hole.