PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Come, won't you sit a spell for me?

Take my place?

Ease my burdon?



Ahhh, I did not think so.



For the weak wouldn't last a mere moment in my hell.

Wouldn't survive the nightmarish dreams

that taunt my reality.

Wouldn't handle the daily pummeling

so viciously imparted upon this soul.



They act distant-cold-dead.

No emotions nor feelings for the suffering of another.

Another which they toss aside flippantly
like the wave of a hand

and with such disregard to the inhumanity

in which I suffer.



Suffer not you, for the likes of me.

Glancing with icicle eyes that pierce their silence.

For their eyes speak volumes of what their cowardice

mutes from their throats.

And I hear loudly...
every unspoken word.



Your stillness of tongue screams what you fear to say!

And each word lies between us like a chasm

of mile-long vulgarities.

Afraid to touch, knowing you cannot possibly feel.

I sense your hesitations with every pulse at your throat.



You fear THIS?
ME?
In a world of utter dismay

and disorganization...you fear one who loves, who cares

and who cries?!

You fear what you cannot see, nor touch,

more than what lies apparent before you?



You are made tired by my sickened state

and are affected by my afflictions?

I think not, for then,

you would need such a compassion,

and surely as I ache, you are devoid!



You are far worse off then me, dear loved-one.

For though I am marred by disease,

I am healthy of soul and mighty of heart,
and ever-strong of Faith.

While you, you are a saddened form of the utmost deprived.

Deprived of common decency and basic emotions.



To claim love is such an easy task,

but to be put to task is to prove

the words with which you speak.

And proof by actions is by far a greater confirmation

than words spilled so thoughtlessly,
and based upon nothing.