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Poems

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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.)



Moon Print E-mail
Written by Koali   

Some times I am like the moon
Sad,
Lonely,
Sitting all alone,
Not talking to anyone.

Koali 2000. NNAAMI member Australia

 
Kitchen Table Wisdom Print E-mail
Written by Rachel Naomi   

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

 
Searching and Knowing Print E-mail
Written by Koali   
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

 
I am Vulnerable Print E-mail
Written by Betty Petterson   

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

 
Searching Eyes Print E-mail
Written by Janet Woititz   

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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