Nobody By Shel Silverstein
Nobody loves me,
Nobody picks me peaches and pears.
Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,
Nobody listen and laughs at my jokes.
Nobody helps when I get in a fight,
Nobody does all my homework at night.
Nobody misses me,
Nobody thinks I’m a wonderful guy.
So if you ask me who’s my best friend, in a whiz,
I’ll stand up and tell you that Nobody is.
But yesterday night I got quite a scare,
I woke up and Nobody just wasn’t there.
I called out and reached out for Nobody’s hand,
In the darkness where Nobody usually stands.
Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,
But I found somebody each place that I looked.
I searched till I’m tired, and now with the dawn,
There’s no doubt about it—
I was reading my copy of A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein the other day, and I came across this poem.
It really struck me because while I was still in the darkest of my days and I cried and I cried because nobody was there for me, nobody understood me, nobody but me could feel my pain, I found a gift.
It wasn’t inside of me. You couldn’t get me to help myself or to stop being scared, to stop crying, to stop worrying about what would happen next.
It was amongst 5 very dear friends (and 1 very wonderful aunt) that I finally found my light in the attic.
They forced me out; they sent me messages.
They admitted they didn’t understand, that they didn’t know my pain exactly. But that they were here for me. And that they would listen to me. And that they would be here for me. That they were concerned for me.
They make me feel loved and cared about.
They make an effort to schedule regular time with me. They check in on me.
I don’t know what made me realize this one day.
I don’t know how I put this together.
My mind doesn’t work well lately – it’s not always cohesive now because of this anti-anxiety medication I am on. It’s too strong for me, but it’s served it’s purpose; I will be tapering off of it shortly.
So random thoughts and dreams and crazy nightmares cloud my normally clear head.
I forget what I am working on. I forget mid-sentence what I am saying, thinking.
But somehow this came into my mind.
My friends first names initials form…
What’s even more weird? Odd? Coincidental? Psychic? Clairvoyant? Mystic? Spiritual? Supernatural?
I don’t even know how I really came up with the name Jack. It just came to me in my dreams.
So how could this be? How could this wonderful thing have happened?
The R? Jack’s father’s last name.