A poem about chronic pain By Sue Falkner-Wood This pain is present every day Unyielding, oppressive, still there. Why doesn’t it take a day off, Who said, “Life is always fair?” Inhabited by the unwanted I feel victimized, possessed. I ask myself all those questions, “What did I do? Was I too stressed?” How much is psychological? How much is left to chance? Will it get worse or better? Should I take a reflective glance? Depression displaced by anger I felt helpless, betrayed by fate. Blaming myself, my parents, my genes I faced my own Watergate. I began to count my losses, Labored through my grief, My life, my body, my ego All vandalized by this thief. What can I expect to change? What is always to be? It seems all I valued before Is now questioned, constantly. Daily pain has rocked my world As war, earthquake and flood, As my own Richter scale responds By changes deep within my blood. I felt alienated from other Those so vital, healthy and tanned While I was despondent, alone An alien in my own homeland. For awhile I wallowed and floundered Kicked by the foot of fate, Then one day I passed a mirror and said, “This is your life. It’s getting late!” Suddenly that’s when it hit me. I’d had enough of that pit. My life was leading me around Instead of me living it. I began to look for solutions If this pain is always to be. I had to find some hope in my life, Imprisoned, I longed to be free. I took a personal inventory Of all that I have left, Gradually I stopped asking, “Why?” And began feeling less bereft. Instinctively I reached out to joy Laughter felt so delicious inside. As it rippled through my body, Bringing its healing tide. I’ve learned to love each day Even the dark side and strife For hidden within the heartache Is a seed of renewal, called life.
Posted on: Sun, 21 Jul 2013 12:15:16 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015