Pain
You arrive with little or no notice,
on the well-worn path to my door,
sometimes sending a private messenger
to forewarn your arrival.
Creativity ceases in your presence
when strength is sucked
from the well of thought.
Demands, that cannot be met,
are made in your name.
Productivity ceases.
Anger attempts intervention
but fails like a voice
that cannot be heard.
Tolerance offers her support
and is embraced for a time,
but wears out like an old sleeve.
When health fails and I leave this place
you will find me no more.
Birds will sing when
weeds cover the dusty path.
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