Poetry

Scraps

“I was no one.
And, in a way, I still am.
But I learned long ago to take scraps.”

When I was still a child, I was no one. Because who could possibly care for a broken little girl like me? But, every damn day, I appreciated the fact that I was still alive. That alone gave me hope. Those rare bits of honest kindness from others were like icing on the cake. I took what I could get and fought through another day.

That was the world I knew. That is the world I still know. But that’s okay. Because I learned long ago to take scraps.

© Sarah Doughty
2017

No matter who you are
or what you’ve survived,
you deserve more than scraps.
You deserve to be treated with importance.

6 thoughts on “Scraps”

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