Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Most days I lie in bed for days end pretending I am dead
Some days I lose the battle  to hunger, thirst and heartache
This pain is real, pain is the only real thing, not even death is 
We don’t even believe in death in the least at least not until we are deceased
It really is not enough to quit  smoking, drinking, living, struggling, surviving,  
But pain,
It doesn't care about  your race, your age, your taste, your faith 
When it hits it does not ask your obedience, your opinion, it just takes
Now Imagine being in pain at a place you can’t  bandage  or even quite place
In your mind, your heart your soul, in your eyes till the tears are dry
And as long as you remember, It has always just been you screaming 
screaming in the church, in the club,with your love, and your mum 
when you f***, when you dance, when you walk, when you talk
I know you were only being polite when you asked
If I was fine, with no indifference or concern
I know you meant well and I should have obliged with etiquette
But today the pain has been worse than the rest of the days 
So thank you for asking and thank you for being patient as a patient
I could go on all day but I am sure you might think I have just gone mad 
I assure you  I am ok it is just the pain that makes me seem mad 
good day and goodbye you have been really kind.

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