Search Suzanne Crone



Posted in Poetry

If as a child, instead of being

protected, loved, and cherished,

you are the caretaker,

you miss out on your birthright of

learning to

love and cherish yourself. 

You can spend your whole life in lack, 

running a

Love Deficit,

skittering and bowing to anyone who

gives you the time of day;

the illusion of belonging.

Then it happens;

A light goes on and you realize that

you have nobody around you who 

loves what you love–

You kept it hidden under a bushel,

considered unimportant,

even foolish,

but now you

can't stand another moment without it.

Burn the bushel and 


"It's time! It's time!

For God's sake, it's time!"