This Poem was Submitted By: Donna E. Friedrichs On Date: 2000-04-05 04:29:14 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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BEFORE THEIR TIME

My hands are drawn  like magnets to my hair Tugging and pulling  with a will of their own Snap, a strand breaks  free of its connection From the sphere  that birthed it, giving it life One more strand escapes,  my fingers its accomplice Leaving behind  a barren, lonely place It's neighbor, realizing it is gone  is sad And is glad when it joins  it's remembered friend Other strands join the growing heap on the floor Unaware of the tragedy  they have left behind Not realizing they have come  to a certain end Only knowing they are  once again with friends Tears of grief from  the sparsely populated sphere Depict sadness of a mothers child who leaves home too soon This being the only  comparison one can make Except, perhaps the loss of  flower petals before their time Petals may fall too soon  from lack of sunshine Or wither and droop  from lack of rain Can become limp and sad From lack of care Or shrivel and die from lack of love However you plan  to groom your garden Plant its rows  in nourishing sunshine Its path in that  of life-giving rain Fill its rows with large measures of love If your garden blooms  full and beautiful, be proud But not so proud  as to feel you are above others If your garden does not flourish  As you had hoped Do not cry, but plant again, For at least you are trying. © 1994 Donna Friedrichs 

Copyright © April 2000 Donna E. Friedrichs

Additional Notes:
Author's Note I do not have Trichotillomania. I have OCD. I wrote this poem for a friend who has Trichotillomania (hair pulling, thought to be a Spectrum disorder of OCD)


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