Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

Poem by Evelyn Rodriguez-Lallave

I am misunderstood

a butterfly newly risen from its quiet cocoon,

wings still trembling with the memory of darkness.

They see the color,

but not the long hush before the dawn.

The sea knows me.

It sighs against the shore like an old poet,

keeping secrets between its tides.

The valley knows my silence,

where the grass whispers at night

as though the earth itself were remembering love.

Once, there was a table—

empty now—

a single comb resting upon it

like a small relic of tenderness

left behind by someone who never returned.

I have crossed bridges made of longing,

stood beneath the moon where grief

and romance share the same pale light.

And still I bloom,

like a stubborn flower in the wind—

fragile, perhaps,

but alive with the quiet courage

of a heart that has loved deeply

and waits, even now,

to be understood.

The Leaves Will Fly Again