Back to Issue 3

What Will Be Left of Me By Roxanne Roelofsze

What will be left of me
when everything I am is changed?

Will you still see the same old me
that could stay on a creative high
until almost three in the morning;
if my life had to be rearranged?

The me that could be anything
on any day I choose because
essentially there was nothing to
lose-I would wake up and cry;
read the paper check the sky
for rain and every night watch TV-
movies color sound stories all free-
I'd laugh and feel like I want to sing,,,
those moviestars take you on such a trip
you'll believe in everything and the next day
arrives bright and sober as spring

I'd wake up and want to die

hearing  the lawnmowers cutting down
the yellow flowers while they swayed upon
the breeze I would wonder why oh why
it is so hard to please
I would dream and drift out
further to sea, waving goodbye
to all I ever wanted to be-
all my sorrows I drown

this is surely something
you would not like to see-
however before you shout
to make me wake know that
it will be no piece of cake
be prepared for I have been
asleep for so long
if I jumped up too fast
I would shake and cry

and keep asking you: what steps
should I take; and who am I?