Lows And Extremes
The truth of reality haunts my soul,
lamenting the innocence childhood stole.
A heart that's never experienced love;
always feels empty, never wholly whole.
I found no love on the wings of a dove;
push inevitably turned into shove.
And yet, normality included hope,
and my willingness to partake thereof.
Faced with the fact that I can barely cope,
I'm left dangling at the end of my rope.
And, frustrated with an absentee God,
faith starts sliding down a slippery slope.
The fact my father never spared the rod;
meant unconditional love was a fraud.
And an incompleteness shadows my dreams,
retracing the steps I've already trod.
My upbringing was harsher than it seems,
confronting my demons with silent screams.
And a fractured future born of the past;
forms a collage of life's lows and extremes.
Hope's magic has become too weak to cast,
Exhausted, its power has degraded fast.
Lonely and unloved, I await life's end,
Praying that in death, I'll find love at last.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016
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