Through the pain

 A part of me
Finds himself astray
Occasionally, that is
Not every night and day
Finding itself
Trying to wish
For a method, or a way
To smile through the pain
Like all the others within me do
A part of me finds itself
Distraught, and confused
Left behind by the rest
Like a little wisp
Floating with the wind
Failing to land on a leaf
Or a tree
Afloat with the streams
Unable to catch a break
Adrift with the rain
Failing to breathe, at times
I mourn for little old me
That little piece floating by
That little piece asking for help
Always wondering why
I wish I had much to give
Or anything, really, to provide
But that piece of me is necessary
For it is how I weather the tides
Sometimes a flower
Has to bend with the winds
In order to survive
Sometimes a tower
Will crumble and fall
Because it defied
Stare upon a future
Confined within those four walls within
And without
Outside of them is a bigger prison yet
Finding itself trying its best
Or attempting, one should say
To lay something profound
That which is indescribable within
Difficult to comprehend
That piece of me sees oh so clearly
Better than I ever did
Or could
Or would
Or ever, ever will
Oh I wish for that piece to live forever
Live on through our writings and musings
But we both know that won't be so
For our writings and works
Are for us alone
And perchance, for our soul
I want it to know that I love it
Love it more than I ever could say
It is, perhaps, the piece that matters most
For it is the only piece responsible
For me being alive today
Lamenting the platitudes bestowed
By those who think that it only gets dark when it rains
I perceive that piece of me
As a luxury
A gift
A light breaching the dark
I wish that piece of me nothing more
Than peace
For that piece of me, I promise
I'll smile through the pain
Till it hurts no more
I'll smile through the pain
Till we crumble and fall
I'll hold myself when no one does
Hug a pillow or a tree
Breathe in the atmosphere
Pat myself on the back sometimes
And know
That it'll be alright
Like it's always been...
...right?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Blue moon

Two hundred lines of dry ink and broken dreams

Regent cold and calculated