Little Poets

We are all different and unique. Some simple and some complex. But like carefully prepared delicacies spread along a buffet, we can never be to everyone's liking. Many enjoy the flavor of vanilla cake. Yet, I will never be like that of a vanilla cake. And it seems, the same holds true for my daughter. Although mildly different from one another, we both will never be minimal ingredient, mild flavored individuals. There is a need and a place for all of these different flavors. I can't change who I am anymore than an artichoke can become a banana. And I urge my daughter to never try. Because after years of trying, I learned and had to accept that I will forever be one of the more intensely flavored desserts sitting at the end of the buffet line. Far from sour, but admittedly complex. Whatever flavor you find yourself being, enhance it but never change it. Life would be too bland otherwise.

Forgive Me

Forgive me Heaven while I rest,

The mother.

I am not, it seems, at my best.

My thoughts are far from light ‘n good,

truth is, I don’t feel as I should.

All is not over, all is not lost,

just grown weary of the cost.

There’s a price to be paid,

if goals are won ‘n dreams made.

With all the trials, life’s ups and downs,

I found my path along inner ground.

So forgive me while I sit alone, 

just need time to find my way home.

Samantha Hoffman, circa 1979 (10 yrs. old)

Wonderland

The daughter.

I find myself in wonderland,

its as real as its pretend.

When the world's crushing down, 

when I fell and hit the ground,

I turn myself around.

Nothing's going to stop me,

I'll survive, 
I won't cry.

I'm upside down, 

and I fell down,
I'm underground.

Chloe Hoffman, September 2010 (8yrs. old)