Panashe Chigwedere Poet Free verse

Was I created to Suffer

Was I forged in the crucible of fate,
To be a vessel for sorrow's endless weight?
Was I crafted to weep in solitude's dark night,
A solitary figure, lost in unrelenting light?

Am I but a pawn in the game of life,
A fleeting amusement, a moment's trivial strife?
Was I created to be a mere whisper, unheard and unseen,
A forgotten whisper, lost in the din of humanity's scheme?

My days are shrouded in a veil of tears,
A perpetual sorrow that dries my eyes and sears.
I kneel, a supplicant, hands clasped in fervent prayer,
Yet the heavens remain silent, unmoved by my despair.

Oh, the crushing weight of existence's cruel design,
A life of suffering, where pain is my sole companion, my heart's rhyme.
I scan the faces of others, searching for a glimpse of hope,
A fleeting smile, a moment's respite from this endless scope.

But alas, their joy only serves to underscore my plight,
A stark reminder of the happiness that's denied to me, a life without light.
I wonder, was I born to be a martyr to pain,
A perpetual outsider, forever trapped in this desolate terrain?

How do I convey the depth of my anguish, my heart's cry,
That the universe might take notice, and respond, "I hear you, I see you, I am here"?
I've knocked, I've pleaded, I've waited, but the door remains closed,
And I am left to wonder, was I created to suffer, forever exposed?

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