special. #poetry

He said I was special
for the way I smiled
and the words I spoke.
He said I was special
for the woman I was
and for the way
I made him feel.

But when he said
you were special
for your smile
and your words
and the way
you made him feel,
I knew
I was never special
at all.

 

swirl.
©2017 what sandra thinks

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About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
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34 Responses to special. #poetry

  1. Lynni says:

    Ahh! Love it ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Ah, but he thought you were!
    A perfect case of “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, and this poem is beautiful.

    Hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Obol says:

    These are painful moments. I’m not sure if I can articulate this correctly: if we can’t look beyond our own noses and measure a person for their own worth, I feel like we need to gain some awareness and a lot of maturity. For myself, a person’s worth is not measured by how they make me feel.

    Took a lifetime to learn to measure someone by them and not me.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Meg says:

    This is the worst. Everyone feels this kind of pain at some point. Don’t we all want to feel special to someone? Just one person at least?

    Liked by 1 person

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