Stolen
Stolen
It wasn’t mine.
It isn’t.
I didn’t mean to steal it.
It was so soft
and small enough
to fit in the bed
of my hand.
I hid it
in my desk,
but now I wish
I hadn’t.
What used to be
my secret prize
feels like a hole
in my stomach.
For more poetry visit Robyn at Life on the Deckle Edge for this week’s Poetry Friday round up.
© Elizabeth Steinglass, all rights reserved, 2015
What a great poem. A lot of kids will relate to and learn from this. Thanks.
Thanks, Rosi. This one felt hard for me to post so I appreciate your support.
Ooh, I like it! That’s just how guilt feels. Great job!
Thank you!
I love the gentle honesty of this, LIz.
“…in the bed/
of my hand”
We have all been there somehow,
and a poem like this makes us each
less alone.
x
Thanks, Amy.
Love the quiet power of this one, Liz. As Amy said, we all have done things as children that we later regret and poems like this lead to self-forgiveness.
You really captured that feeing!
A very effective poem, Liz – as others have mentioned, probably solace to anyone who might wrestle with something similar.
If ever a poem about guilt could be gentle and honest, this is it. Just lovely, Liz. One of my favorites so far (and I have a lot of favorites!).
Oh, and I love that it is something so simple as a tassel. It’s just the sort of thing that would lure me, too. 🙂
This must have been a hard one to write, & you wrote just enough for us to understand that awful feeling. “That secret prize” is so tempting for a child.
On the 21st, the emotion for my PO-EMotion challenge is guilt. I have drafted the companion poem to this, about an umbrella theft!
I will be sure to stop by and read it!