A WELL OF TEARS

FROM: October 1, 2016

To what do I compare you?

Look at this raindrop in my palm,

I watch your reflection melt..

Your image flows like running sand,

Sifting through the fingers of my hand..

I am bewildered..

As I feel nothing.

Not for lack of want, I do!

Yet, I know that if I care,

I feel my heart will blow,

Is there enough thread in this bastard world to put me back together?

So I'll be okay?

The selfishness of self-preservation astounds me..

Let me pick up your wee humanity,

Depart my base insanity,

Assuage my helpless vanity!

How dare you make me feel,

You're not my child,

You are something I don't know,

Something not far from being wild..

I turn my head in a whisper..

So concerned I am of fear,

Close my cage, hold safety near..

At this moment, once again..

I turn and look in vain..

At the consequence of pain.

I wonder at our world,

Where we build our slice of heaven..

How it has come to this that I must ask forgiveness..

Seventy times!!!

and yet plus seven more!

Tonight when we do sleep,

On pillows soft and bed so sweet,

Who will our brothers keep?

Are you well fed? Lonely?

Not for friend but family?

What does a child face that has no mother?

No father? Nor sister, nor brother?

How do we stand it, my friend?

I hear strains of Morrison's "This is the End"!

If you cannot feel this, the smallest sorrow,

If not today perhaps tomorrow

Take my soul, IT, you can borrow.

I know this is dark, but not all words are meant to heal,

Let this pain make you feel,

Yet compared to this child's, it isn't real!

I don't want to look, nor do you.

I'm sorry I shred this, but...

Sometimes I have to..

This is my well of tears.