Pain As a Fuel

Pain, while unpleasant, does serve a purpose. It lights the fires that make the poet pick up pen. An all-too-content person has no need for expression. So it's like the proverbial 2 edged sword. It also raises the awareness level of those so inflicted. Simple pleasures, as well as hurts, are greatly magnified. I remember, at one of the lowest points of my life...estranged from wife and kids, mom just died, and I lost my job- I took a horrendous job cold calling to try to sell copy machines- my compensation- $150 week which I used 3 times as much in gas and wear and tear. But the most devestating wear and tear was on my ebbing sense of self respect. I was considered a "pest". My card, handed over, torn before my eyes, thrown in a waste basket....and I did my best, until after a few weeks, I was so worn down, I couldn't go on. But the worst thing, I'd go sit on the beach boardwalk, and watch seemingly happy famlies, couples holding hands, love obvious in their eyes. I did not want to live. I was somehow seperated from the normal world. I even strongly contemplated suicide. Only my religious conviction of it's sinfulness stoped me... (and helped, in good measure, by being a coward.....) That was then. But poignant journal entries were made.. And now is now. And music and poetry are my reasons to continue....Poetry Soup was like winning a lottery... all my new friends...all the fun and kidding...we are a family. Thank you all. tom