Help comeing from a cage,

Binding my body,

Reigning in my mind.

But it doesn't kill this thing

That keeps me quarantine.

I live for my mother...

She's had one divorce,

Then now a new husband whose battling deadly cancer...

Could she survive the loss

     Of her child?

     Then her spouse?

I live because I can't

     Give my enemy's the satisfaction of knowing...


But...I am so weak,

So tired of an incurable disease

     Holding me captive,

From which there is no probation or reprieve.

I live because of them,

Yet living requires this cage...

And still no one understands my comtempt or rage.

To want to kill this demon,

     That lives in the playground of my mind,

     That channels under my skin,

     Not understanding why,

     That peace of mind may mean...

     Loosing "this so called" life.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 3-05-04, while experiencing a depressive episode of Manic-Depression.  Not to mention PTSD factors that contributed with the stress of a divorce.

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