Poets are those who love,--who feel great truths, And tell them.

June 12, 2011

Life

by Anonymous

Life. You are unrequited everything and happy nothing. You make me wake up in the morning and wonder why. I do good and you never reward me. I offer mercy to others and you show me none in return. I suffer and you never comfort me. I break and you never heal me. I cry and you let me drown. I bleed and you let me run dry. I pray and it doesn't matter. I hope til Im blue in the face.

My heart is an open, gaping wound, crying out for someone to save it. But it will never happen and never matter. It will be ignored, stepped on, or used up and returned. And that is who *I* will always be. There is no hope on the horizon. There is no spark waiting to catch flame. There is no one with their heart set on mine. I am as alone as I was yesterday and will only be more so tomorrow.

"If only we had known.." How much do I have to say, with how many words, in how many ways? Do I have to scream, in the middle of the street? Do I have to stop traffic, to get someone to care, to get someone to understand, to get someone to notice? Or perhaps I'll never exist to anyone and will eventually be crushed underneath the weight of my own tears.

3 comments:

  1. Every time I watch a fairy tale with a happy ending I cry myself to sleep

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  2. amen to that.

    thanks for your reply to my poem and for all the other poems you replied to today. very thoughtful of you. :)

    kellie
    web site owner and semi-poet ;)

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  3. That is such a well done poem. Very powerful and meaningful. Life shouldn't be that way but sadly it is. It's not right. This poem makes me want to strive to be a better person, thank you.

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