Thursday, April 25, 2013

One Woman's Pain

I tire and hunger for rest from humanity. I've grown bitter due to constant heartache. Oft times I have wondered what kept me caring, functioning, or even motivated. Then I realized it has all been a means of escape. 

To what end?

What is the purpose of being? I do not see one, save it misery. I am exhausted by the high road; of being so damn objective and fair. 

I want t scream until my lings burst. I have come to another crossroad. 
Frankly I am disgusted with crossroads; this being the hundredth one. 
Once more I must choose a path, but either way it will no doubt end with disappointment. 

The creeping fear of a life without joy tends to soften my anger and deepen my sorrow. 
I feel as if my hardships have much more than scarred me. 

Honestly, does it matter one woman's pain? 

(Written by Amy E. McCoy 2-13-06)

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