Proud

I don't know what
Crosses your mind
When you think of me:
I can't feel what you feel
See what you see
Want what you want
Or be all you need.
But maybe,
With this,
I'll make you proud.

Not uneasy,
Or patronised.
Not embarrassed.
Just proud.

I won't try to recount
Glamour, adventure or success-
The things that make up
You.
I write of
Dreams, wishes, colour;
Me.
Maybe,
With this,
I'll make you proud.

Not bored,
Or annoyed.
Not indignant.
Just proud.

Perhaps
I'll be lucky-
Those memories,
Made in haste,
When I wanted something,
That became worse than nothing,
Will be washed away.
Maybe,
With this,
I'll make you proud.

Not amused,
Or sympathetic.
Not touched.
Just proud.

So, if you happen
To read this
And realise,
Know that
I'm sorry, and thankful-
Everything in-between.
I always will be.
Maybe,
With this,
I'll make you proud.