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Today, on July 6th, 2008, the site contains 193 poets, 8,680 poems and 4,500 comments.
Margaret Atwood - A Sad Child

You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favorite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you're trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside you head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are. 

Added: on April 19th, 2006 at 12:01 AM | Viewed: 3293 times | Comments (4)


A Sad Child - Comments and Information

Poet: Margaret Atwood
Poem: A Sad Child

Comment 4 of 4, added on September 25th, 2006 at 10:18 AM.

I think this poem makes a lot of sense. I have come to realize I am the "sad child" in our family, although on the outside I seem quite happy. I never thought parents could have a "favorite child," but, in our family, my brother clearly is just that. It is agonizing to watch the way he treats our parents (disrepectfully, etc)--they notice it over and over, yet they still keep treating him as if he can do no wrong. Nothing the rest of us do, no matter how well we treat our parents is ever enough. I don't really analyze poems and I do not know if this is what the author meant, but this poem did strike a chord with me and means something to me. It seem that, in the end, it really does not matter. Although it hurts a great deal in the process, it boils down to the fact that noone is any better than me and I am no better than anyone else. Thank you to the author.

MJ from United States
Comment 3 of 4, added on June 3rd, 2006 at 8:46 PM.

This is one of my faves.I think the important thing to remember is that poetry doesn't always have to be automatically analyzed, The point of poetry or one point at least, is the primal response.
When I read this it just,for reasons i don't quite know, wrenched my heart out. I think it's reaching into that moment we all have as children where you u measure ur validation by surrounding peoples affection towards you. this poem says that never stops, but the poets voice couterbalences it by its own warm comfort,

Ben D'Amiral from United Kingdom
Comment 2 of 4, added on April 19th, 2006 at 12:01 AM.

I just read this poem for the first time today and it struck such a strong chord in me. I'm raising a teenager and teenage stepchildren by proxy and before this time I don't think I could have related to the poem the way I do now. I definitely see one of my children in this poem...the sad child so full of self importance and drama that empathy or objectivity is beyond reach. Perspective is hopefully something that will come with time and life experience but as we're in the thick of it I'm finding it hard to hold out any hope.;P

Lorna from Canada

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