There are many remarkable women <br />That the boundary of historical years <br />Has prevented me from meeting. <br /> <br />I have often been near tears <br />Reading the fragments of Sappho, <br />Or merely gazing at a photograph <br />Of Emily Dickinson. <br /> <br />When I was a young boy, <br />I remember reading the Bell Jar <br />And seeing pictures of Sylvia Plath, <br /> <br />I thought she was so beautiful, <br />Nearly as beautiful as her amazing words <br />That brought both fear and sorrow <br />To my tiny beating teenage heart. <br /> <br />She was dead in 1963, <br />A year before my birth, <br />I still hoped there was some way <br />To love and rescue her! <br /> <br />Now, as the years unwind <br />Through broken relationships and dark nights, <br />I’ve come to realize, everyone is a hurting child <br />And that I’ve made more women sad than sweetly smile.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/everyone-is-a-hurting-child/
