You feel your life is worthless,
And it's time that it should end.
You hurt so bad inside your heart,
And you tell yourself you just can't win.
When did all of this sorrow begin?
It wasn't something you wanted to happen.
Was it when you were just a small child?
Was it something your parents were lacking?
Did it come on all at once?
Or did it sneak up on you slowly?
From where did all the agonies come,
That causes you to feel so lowly?
The doors around you all seem closed,
And inside there's a raging storm.
Your mind is burdened with confusion,
And you wish you had never been born.
Is there comfort for your aching soul?
Is there a love strong enough to heal?
Is there hope that will lift you up again,
Releasing all the misery that you feel?
Yes, weary one, there is hope.
And yes there are those who care.
But you are the one that must make it work,
In this world that is so unfair.
Belief in yourself that you are someone,
Who deserves much more than this pain.
With help from God, whom you have shunned,
Is the first step in starting over again.
No one can tell you that it is easy!
Nor that the way will be as smooth as glass,
But there are many that will be there for you,
To put these hurtful things into the past.
Rozita Dian Martin
© January 24, 2001
PLEASE RESPECT THE COPYRIGHT
PANCAKKE'S POETRY INDEX