Behind the Scenes of Life

Chapter 20

During the year we had gotten a Life orientation project and part of that project was to write about ourselves either in the form of a letter or a poem. We had to include various aspects of our lives into this letter or poem. I had chosen to write the poem. I was honest when I wrote it and put all of myself into it like I did with all of my poetry. The poem went like this:

Sum of my parts

Books in hand, I leave for home in the late afternoon

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

*

Lost in my own world

Mind travelling really far

All these questions about who you really are

From day one on, when I was born

To this day where my heart feels torn

Going through bad times, hoping they won’t get worse

But when they do worsen, I pray the end of this curse

Hoping it’s a nightmare

And soon I’d awaken

But when I do open my eyes, I realise everything’s really been taken

I used to be small and innocent

Where the worse thing was worrying about sleep

And if I’m such a God-fearing child, why isn’t it good things I reap?

Now I’m big and a teenager and these problems continue to grow

I try and please everyone, but I’m still at such a low

If anyone else had to live my life, I don’t think they’d survive

But I wish I could be someone else so I can understand how THEY thrive

When I look into the mirror, all I see is a girl I once knew

I used to think I had it all, but now I see it’s few

If mirrors could show your future, would mine be as blank as my face?

Because time is ever-passing and can’t be defeated by a race

Sometimes I’m okay with myself, and then other times I’m not

I see how I have nothing, yet undeserving people have a lot

I try to make good decisions, and for me they always are

I always strive to do my best so that one day I’ll go far

My parents say I’m special and that I was made unique

But how can I believe that, if that’s what all mothers speak?

In this world there are many things and just so much I can take

I just wish I had a minute to myself, because this heart of mine needs a break

I don’t know who or what I want to be yet, I have no ideas regarding careers

I think of a couple of jobs I like and they’d help me get over my fears

But my parents don’t agree. They have other ideas for me

I won’t really do it if the work is not for me

I have a fascination with languages and also love to travel

If I did that as a career, I’d then be considered being a rebel

I have dreams and ambitions

This most would consider unrealistic

But just because theirs aren’t as high as mine, doesn’t mean I can’t reach it!

At least there I have no doubt in my capabilities and how far I’d go for something

As long as I have a positive experience and it ends up enriching

Many people underestimate me and say: “Oh no, she just smiles”

But what they fail to understand is, I’ve been through much harder trials

Much harder to be fazed by the likes of common human beings

Who can’t tell the difference between teen emotions and true feelings

I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak, nights of crying didn’t help

It didn’t heal my broken heart or take away how I felt

With all the stress of school, friends and family, it’s hard to remain sane

I hardly get enough time to myself and no one shows at least a bit of restrain

I wish now more than ever that time would make an exception and slow

So that when it eventually does accelerate again, I would have something to show

I’d show how good of use I can be when I’m in the know

For now I remain positive and cling to the hope that it’ll all better

For as it’s now, it’s as dry as the Sahara

And my only wish is that it’ll get wetter

Sometimes you play a game, fully knowing you’re going to lose

But what other choice do you have when there’s no other option to choose

At least I don’t give up. It’s like I have not one, but many hearts

And that’s just me. The sum of my parts.

*

Certificate in hand

I leave Varsity in the late afternoon

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

-Jane Levie

I had received a fairly good mark for the project. The teacher had written that I had a good sense of humour on the page where I had done my cartoon. The cartoon was of a father duck and his son on the water. The son was wearing a life jacket and the father duck was saying to his son, “Son I think it’s time we have a chat about self-confidence.” I found it funny.

By my poem the teacher, Mrs A, wrote that it was very sincere. In the other part of the message she advised me to speak to someone about how I felt.

Even she saw what I clearly wasn’t hiding so well.

She probably thought I was suicidal and depressed after that poem and message.

Maybe I had been depressed, but if I had ever been suicidal everyone would have known. Because I would have been dead.