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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 |
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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