| Written: AUG 21, 2003 |
I can't stand that you can think of me
or see my picture and derive pain from it.
It is horrible, and not for myself,
but the fact I can pain someone
just by being here alive
and whatever I am.
I can’t find the words,
and that is the shame of it.
Nothing that I say or do
can make any difference.
I am Helpless.
As a babe left in the snow,
steadily colder I become;
the tears there, yet unfalling,
like icicles unbreakable due to my being “man”.
The guilt rides my blood paths,
and my heart labors breaking apart at the seams.
