Last night, I cried over you
that you don’t like me
Your words cut into my heart
Your look split us apart
But there’s no wrong I did
Now I know it is what I am
that makes you angry
that you disagree
I am sorry that you don’t like me
that we must not agree.
Day: May 3, 2019
Autobiographia Literaria by Frank O’Hara
When I was a child
I played by myself in a
corner of the schoolyard
all alone.
I hated dolls and I
hated games, animals were
not friendly and birds
flew away.
If anyone was looking
for me I hid behind a
tree and cried out “I am
an orphan.”
And here I am, the
center of all beauty!
writing these poems!
Imagine!
This simple poem is about Frank O’hara who spends his childhood in sadness and loneliness until he comes across poetry in which he finds beauty.