Listen

When I ask you to listen to me

and you start giving me advice,

you have not done what I asked.

When I ask you to listen to me

and you begin to tell me why

I shouldn't feel that way,

You are trampling on my feelings.

When I ask you to listen to me

and you feel you have to do something to solve my problem,

you have failed me,

strange as that may seem.

Listen! All I ask is that you listen.

Don't talk or do - just hear me.

Advice is cheap: 20 cent will get you

both Dear Abbie and Billy Graham in the same newspaper.

And I can do for myself.

I am not helpless!

Maybe discouraged and faltering;

but not helpless.

When you do something that I can,

and need to do for myself,

you contribute to my fear and inadequacy.

But when you accept as a simple fact

that I feel what I feel,

no matter how irrational,

then I can stop trying to convice

you and get about this business of understanding

what's behind this irrational feeling.

And when that's clear, the

answers are obvious and I don't need advice.

Irrational feelings make sense when we understand what's behind them.

Perhaps that's why prayer works for some people -

because  God is mute, and he doesn't give advice or try to fix things.

God just listens and let's you work it out for yourself.

So please listen, and just hear me.

And if you want to talk,

Wait a minute for your turn,

And I will listen to you.

babesface babesface
22-25, F
2 Responses Mar 2, 2009

I think you should post it as your own poem rather than as a comment... More people will see it that way

Yours was great! What do you think of this poem:<br />
<br />
1 The superlative song, which is Sol′o‧mon’s: 2 “May he kiss me with the kisses of his mouth, for your ex<x>pressions of endearment are better than wine. 3 For fragrance your oils are good. Like an oil that is poured out is your name. That is why maidens themselves have loved you. 4 Draw me with you; let us run. The king has brought me into his interior rooms! Do let us be joyful and rejoice in you. Do let us mention your ex<x>pressions of endearment more than wine. Deservedly they have loved you.<br />
5 “A black girl I am, but comely, O YOU daughters of Jerusalem, like the tents of Ke′dar, [yet] like the tent cloths of Sol′o‧mon. 6 Do not YOU look at me because I am swarthy, because the sun has caught sight of me. The sons of my own mother grew angry with me; they appointed me the keeper of the vineyards, [although] my vineyard, one that was mine, I did not keep.<br />
7 “Do tell me, O you whom my soul has loved, where you do shepherding, where you make the flock lie down at midday. Just why should I become like a woman wrapped in mourning among the droves of your partners?”<br />
8 “If you do not know for yourself, O you most beautiful one among women, go out yourself in the footprints of the flock and pasture your kids of the goats alongside the tabernacles of the shepherds.”<br />
9 “To a mare of mine in the chariots of Phar′aoh I have likened you, O girl companion of mine. 10 Your cheeks are comely among the hair braids, your neck in a string of beads. 11 Circlets of gold we shall make for you, along with studs of silver.”<br />
12 “As long as the king is at his round table my own spikenard has given out its fragrance. 13 As a bag of myrrh my dear one is to me; between my breasts he will spend the night. 14 As a cluster of henna my dear one is to me, among the vineyards of En-ge′di.”<br />
15 “Look! You are beautiful, O girl companion of mine. Look! You are beautiful. Your eyes are [those of] doves.”<br />
16 “Look! You are beautiful, my dear one, also pleasant. Our divan also is one of foliage. 17 The beams of our grand house are cedars, our rafters juniper trees.