17th September 2020
Storm

Storm

A new poem from one of our adopted young people.

Storm

I used to feel a storm curling inside me

Waiting to be let out

Sometimes yes I am ashamed to say

It escaped

But I had to learn how to contain it

I have to admit it has taken a while

And it sometimes gets the better of me

But to be honest I always feel ashamed afterwards

Blinding fury loses control, sure flames feel like their burning inside my head

Sending me into a whirl, pool of confusion,

Anger, Frustration

Building up inside me

Begging, pleading to be set free

But “No” I tell myself every time

You can’t let this get the better of you

So I think very hard

Push with all my might to let the storm pass

Sometimes I feel like a waking storm

Not so much now because I am working on a way to get rid of the storm.

By Fiona Brown

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