Tears are for any and everything. |
My eyes are filled with the tears of a failure, but I refuse to let them fall. I refuse to let flow, my emotional water. I want no one to know how I feel. I want no one to see my pain. I am not made of steel but tender emotions that I refuse to show. For years, I’ve been waiting in patience for the love of my life to return; for my health to restore itself. I’ve failed miserably. No matter how hard I try, nothing seems to go right, so only at night, I cry. I needed help, but no one seemed to notice that I was in battle with my inner self, so I suffered in silence, alone. In the dark my voice is a lonely, breathless moan. I guess, to everyone else, my voice sounds like a low whisper. I feel as if I’m an insignificant miser. As if I was born to fail; born a wretch. My life an empty pail. I’m tired of people telling me, “Well, someone has it worse.” Like I don’t know or think about that. But, why am I the one who has to think of others first? I can’t help them if I can’t help myself. Now I feel my tears sliding down my face, leaving a trail of sticky film. How do I get back to where I used to be? I’ve tried for years. I’m begging: I need someone to help me. I pray and I pray and I pray; however; it seems as if my prayers for myself aren’t heard, because I feel more like a failure every day. I’m still stuck behind the tinted window of my… inner sanctum, watching other pass by, while trying to capture the flowing tears of a failure. |