Useless
I still wake to crisp morning air,
but hope dissolves right then and there.
As I open my eyes, I realize and sigh—
another day begins, and I wonder why.
Time drags slowly—no spark, no fun,
another long cold day, no warmth, no sun.
No ambition, no energy, nothing gets done—
just me and this silence I cannot outrun.
I used to be needed, I used to be known;
now I just sit here, invisible, alone.
No one calls, no one checks in—
like I vanished the moment my strength grew thin.
They don’t see the fight it takes just to stand,
they go on living, no one lends a hand.
I can’t cook a meal, can’t walk very far—
it hurts to reach for the light or get in the car.
No, I’m not lazy, and I haven’t quite quit—
I’m just being erased, bit by bit.
Hope isn’t coming; please, don’t lie to my face—
it packed up and left without leaving a trace.
I’ll never be free from this torment and pain—
no miracle cure, just the same old chain.
I scream in silence; I used to be seen—
I’m fading away, unheard and unseen.
Don’t ask me to smile or tell me, “Be brave”—
this useless old soul no one will save.
So if I am fading, don’t look away—
this broken old heart still beats every day.
I may be worn out and I may not belong—
my body won’t work, but my voice is still strong.
Copyright ©
Tracy McBride
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