When I Grew Up

When I was your child I learned The saltiness of my own tears, I knew Which hours of the day And night We're best for me to be invisible

The answer was all of them

And so I became invisible, the best I could, but somehow I would always find a way To instigate and provoke I was just a blip on the radar with A thousand other blips

I must have been the biggest one Or the smallest, because I could never Quite hide well enough to stay unseen

I was different In some unfathomable fashion I was noticeable

I was unique I was a somebody And I didn't want to be

I told myself when I grew up, I would Be the same as all the other people I would say the same words, I would smile the same dead smile So that all the stares And all the glares would slip away With the wild Wyoming wind

Maybe then I would finally be clean Enough to step out of the shadows

C. J. Robinson

Learn by heart: tap a gap

When I was your child I
The of my own tears, I knew
Open the trainer

Keep going on the web or in the app.

Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem

Learn Poems app

Try the Learn Poems app

Everything from the website trainer, and more: new exercises, voice recording and sharing, reminders, quick review.