You’re not supposed to talk about it.
You have to, but you know you can’t.
Everything’s great, everything’s wonderful!
So why the trembling of your hands?
‘Don’t bring me down,’ she says.
‘Your problems are not mine.
It’ll all get better, you’ll see.
All it takes is time.’
But the passing of the clock slows
As it always seems to do.
It violently rips out your heart,
And it wrings the life out of you.
We all wish for understanding.
We all have a bit of pain.
Some have so much more than others.
Yet we’re all supposed to act the same.
‘You’re weak; You’ve failed,’
Are the kinder things people might say.
Because you’re never allowed to ask for help.
You know they’ll make you pay.
Is that really how we want to live?
Going through this world alone?
Isn’t your perfect life just a dream?
And do we really reap what we’ve sown?
You stare blankly into what should have been
You realize it was all for naught.
A wasted life, a tortured soul,
And my Gods how hard you fought!
A lost cause is what you’ve found.
For themselves they don’t even care.
But you did it because you were hoping
At least some of them needed you there.
October 27, 2009 at 12:16 am -
Such a beautiful and touching piece, Bella!