Sometimes, in moments,

I feel me – real me

Peeking through.

It’s often when I’m alone

Its true…

By water, moor or tree

Just you, God, and me!

Or I’m in my lounge

Being the dancer

I always wanted to be,

Or singing out loud-

Me expressing me,

in my not-so-great voice,

But who cares.

Just me and 4 walls

Have the ears.

There are other odd moments

When ‘I’ appear:

In passion, I speak

more loud; more clear.

In my poetry,

as I weave words

into rhyme.

I love making those moments

– they’re mine.

Some I get to share with you –

A little of me

Unhiding, revealing

It’s true.

As the moments appear

I pick up the crumbs

of bits of myself

with fingers and thumbs.

In public, with friends

and definitely family,

I’ve been wearing a disguise –

One that looks like me.

Been terrified to reveal myself

in case I was rejected,

discovered

so bad – not part of the collective.

I imagined the worse case scenario:

That I was what they told me

when so tiny…

Didn’t want to see – real me.

“You’re too sensitive, Maxine!

Stop crying! You’re not fitting our mould.

You’re just not good enough.

Just do as you’re told!”

So I put on my disguise.

I kept myself safe,

but forgot who I was.

Just lived in their disgrace.

So its nice to start to notice

if I feel me pop out.

Encouraged by real Love

to stop having doubt.

That being real me

Is really okay.

And I’m under this mess,

Still alive in some way:

That God’s looking down

Calling real Maxine out –

A special invitation

from the guy with real clout!

“I made you to be

The Maxine you are.

So shed all those layers

you’ve built so far.

And dance, my child,

in your own unique way.

I want you to be happy and free

Forever and a day.

By Maxine

May Queen age 9 Suffolk, England

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