Survivors Poetry

The Real Me

All that I was,
I still am.
All that I can be was temporarily taken over by others
Was not guarded or cherished, but split into a thousand lonely pieces.

And yet, as broken as I am,
I still have hold of one piece of my jigsaw,
Others have taken pieces away.
They have been lost, never to return.

So please. If you find a small piece of me,
Nurture and protect it,
Keep it safe from contamination,
Hide it from those who would sow seeds of doubt and negativity.
Feed it with your love, your strength and your belief in me.
Hold the pieces for me until the time arrives,
When piece by tiny piece,
I can accept their return.

Then I shall begin the journey,
Each piece shall be added to the one I could never let go,
And slowly, surely and steadily,
I shall recognise the picture again.
I shall be complete,

Poem by Julie W
To read Julie's story click here.
To read a letter by Julie click here.