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To whom it concerns,

Darlene’s work will be late

It fell on her pancakes and stuck to her plate.

To whom it concerns, my ma made me write this

And I’m just her kid, so how could I fight this.

To whom it concerns, I lost my assignment

Maybe I’ll get lucky,

solitary confinement.

—–

To whom it concerns,

Darlene’s great with the ball

But guys don’t watch tomboys when they’re cruising the hall.

To whom it concerns,

I just turned thirteen

Too short to be quarterback,

too plain to be queen.

—–

To whom it concerns,

I’m not made of steel

When I get blindsided my pain is quite real.

I don’t mean to squawk,

but it really burns.

I just thought I’d mention it,

to whom it concerns…

—–

I never thought I would take a
show like Roseanne to have much meaning rather than just a comedy type
show but there are some episodes in there that can hit your gut like a
ten pound hammer. Last night I couldn’t sleep after having a rather
serious conversation with a great person. I flipped on Roseanne and
this episode came on. The name of it was called “Brain Dead Poet’s
Society.” Darlene was forced to write an assignment for class on
something that made her happy or brought her to a happy place. She was
going to procrastinate and do it after the basketball that was on t.v.
Roseanne set her foot down and said that it had to be done before the
game. Upstairs Darlene was doing everything but writing this poem when
Roseanne came up to put away their clothes when she went rubbaging
through her old high school things when she presented Darlene with her
old journal full of several types of writings, mainly poetry. Darlene
being the careless one said you just saved me, she was going to copy
one of hers. Several days later one of Roseanne friends come over and
spill the news that Darlene’s poem was picked to be read at a showcase
type thing, Darlene insists on not going. After a whole run around and
very sensitive moments were revealed with her mom, she went and read it
anyway.

Darlene’s poem that was showcased
on the show hit close to home with me. I do write my own poetry but
nothing this original or something purely genius as this is. The part
about guys not looking at a tomboy walkin’ down the hall, and the
feelings not made of steel and it hurts when you’re blindsighted; it’s
just purely genius.

Just thougth I’d share something that made me cry last night;

Because after all my feelings aren’t made of steel.

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