Write a Poem
Relevant to your life experience coping with a mentally ill parent.
Submit your poem to: Editor NNAAMI Poems P.O. Box 213 Glen Iris Victoria Australia 3146. or use the online submission sytem, choosing the subject Poems
(You retain copyright of your poem, NNAAMI reserves the right to display or edit.)
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Written by Koali
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Some times I am like the moon Sad, Lonely, Sitting all alone, Not talking to anyone. Koali 2000. NNAAMI member Australia |
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Written by Rachel Naomi
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Life is the ultimate teacher it is usually through experiences and not scientific research that we discover its deepest lessons. We are all here for a single purpose, to grow in wisdom and to learn to love better. We can do this by having and not having, by succeeding or by failing. All we need to do is to show up open hearted for these classes. Rachel Naomi Remen MD Kitchen Table Wisdom |
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Written by Koali
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I'm searching for something that's so hard to find I'm falling down mountains I can't seem to climb. I'm praying to gods that I don't even know, But I'm ready. I'm willing, where do I go ? You push me away when I come near, I'm scared of you Mummy dear. I love you when you are here, I love you when you are not, I wish I would talk to you, but I know that I can not. I want to be able to talk to you . I want to talk face to face, I want to have a mother, not an empty space. Koali - NNAAMI member Australia, 19/5/97 Part Published in Melbourne Age Recited at NNAAMI National Seminar |
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Written by Betty Petterson
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I am Vulnerable I am sensitive live is pain how do we live ? the task is too big challenges tax me fight me love me some times I feel it can never be done futility lives I see the light then the darkness falls again it is still there look for the light I'll try again I will never give up. Betty Petterson NNAAMI member Australia |
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Written by Janet Woititz
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Searching Eyes Questioning all corners of the room in split seconds brows which aspire to the heights of the forehead darting cool and some what unsure fingers examining the air around her reassuring her doubtful mind of the truth of her existence seeing herself in the mirrors of others minds she rarely believes her own accepting her existence as a reflection the haze rarely clears the mirror is a glass and her soul is bare does she know that she is her own for real. Jannet Woititz Adult Children of Alcoholics |
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