Swimming Girl

A Poem by Authoress

I think it best to let the poem explain itself.

There once was a little girl.

She was very important and the thing that kept her family together.
Her grandma would visit them every day
And sometimes Grandpa would tag along
And her father would laugh with his parents and agree that she was beautiful
While her mother smiled at her sadly but honestly and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl who wanted to swim.
She was important and she didn't know she kept her family together.
Her grandma would visit them every week
And sometimes Grandpa would tag along
And her father would laugh with his co-workers and agree that she was a handful
While her mother smiled at her gladly but worriedly and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl who wanted to swim, but she couldn't.
She was overwhelmingly important and the thing that kept her family together.
Her grandma would visit them every month
And sometimes Grandpa would tag along
And her father wouldn't be there when they were to laugh with them and agree she was growing
While her mother smiled at her falsely but hopefully and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl who never should have wanted to swim in the first place.
She wasn't important at all and she couldn't keep her family together.
Her grandma would hardly visit once a year
And most times Grandpa stayed at home
And her father would only laugh when he was away from the two of them and agree that she was a mistake
While her mother smiled basely and painfully and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl.
She wanted to swim.
She wanted to dive deep into the ocean and meet the fish
And speak their language and see what they saw
And learn what to eat and what not to
And live where nobody else could breathe
So they'd stop making her feel like she couldn't,
Even when she was alone and had all the air to herself.
But she couldn't swim.
And she never should have wanted to in the first place.

There once was a little girl who thought she was done with swimming.
She was vastly unimportant and she ripped her family apart.
Her grandma wouldn't visit anymore
And sometimes Grandpa would forget they existed altogether
And her father got his own house and laughed about it and agreed that it was better
While her mother glared at her truly and brokenly and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl who needed to swim but shouldn't have.
She was the most unimportant thing in existence and she broke her family to bits.
Her grandma didn't leave them in her will
And sometimes Grandpa would remember them in a nightmare
And her father would laugh with his new family and agree that it was perfect
While her mother screamed loudly and hurtfully and thought so in her head.

There once was a little girl who tried to swim.
She was determined to become important and to piece her family together.
Her grandma rotted away in her grave
And sometimes Grandpa would visit it when he went outside the home
And her father would laugh with his new daughter and agree that he'd done things right this time
While her mother cried softly and woefully and thought so in her head.

There once was a girl who drowned.
She was important and she held her family together - it just wasn't the family she had to start with.
Grandpa came to the funeral and remembered who she was
And her father cried with both of his families and agreed she was beautiful
While her mother stared blankly and sorrowful and thought so out loud.

There once was a girl who drowned
Because nobody ever taught her to swim
Because nobody cared enough to teach her
And she tried to anyway.
She wasn't so little anymore.

© 2013 Authoress

My Review

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Reviews

jacob erin-cilberto

this is a hard lesson in growing up to the real world...we have hopes and dreams of saving the world of being important...and then find out that is all a pipedream, a fable...and that nobody really cares...

no one takes the time to teach us how to be what we want to be...

i like the constant shifts in this by use of repetition, from positive to negative back to positive back to negative...

like a state of manic depression...pinnacles and low ebbs so mixed together.

nicely done...and i am most often not a fan of such length..but it was needed here to tell of the cycle of emotions...

jacob

Posted 10 Years Ago

Lee

Breathtaking.

I am thoroughly impressed by this piece. The layout of it, and especially your use of repetition really made the emotions stand out and story feel real. My favorite part was around the 5th ''stanza'' - the words itself got me. But truly, its the entire story that I appreciate. From beginning to end. Every line, every word, works. There's also a quite abit amount of depth to your story which I enjoyed in it as well. And the message sortof cries out...
Honestly, well done/good work. This is a real powerful piece. You should be proud. ( There's more I want to say but I can't find the words at the moment. )