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June 2009





They'll Never Know


I live in a house, on a street with blooming trees.
With blue collared people who take their steps with ease.
Sitting on my porch waving at the ones who pass by.
When all the while, my life is consumed with darkness as I cry.
I pretend to be somewhere else, healthy and happy.. free.
But, at the end of the day I know that will never be.
So I continue to pry out the window at those around.
Trying to disappear into the mumbling sound.
I know they look at me with a curiosity I can see.
But, they'll never ask a thing about me.
They will all continue with their families and life.
And focus on the small trials as a huge strife.
They might wonder once, after I've passed on.
But, most of them will never know I'm gone.
I feel selfish with my desire to just escape.
Oh how I'd love to close my eyes, and change shape.
I'd be someone else if only just for one day.
But, I wouldn't dare gamble that sacred day away.
I'd walk.. run.. eat.. smile.. all without pain.
I'd dance again.. I'd actually be able to enjoy the rain.
Yet here I sit.. fooling myself again with such a thought.
My destiny seems to be here.. dreaming as I rot.
I try my hardest everyday not to really complain.
And I try not to roll my eyes every time I have to explain.
But, on days like today I can't take it anymore.
Every single inch of my body that's sick and sore.
I succumb to thoughts of ending this life of pain and sorrow.
But, I never give in.. yet I can't really see a tomorrow.
A smile is something that is as rare as the brightest gem.
Not when I grimace.. just to move one limb.
Nobody will ever know what's its like in these shoes.
What it's like to live in pain.. or die by your own hand. To choose.
So, I'll continue to sit on the front porch and wave.
And they'll never know the end of torture I crave.
I'll keep pretending to those around me everything is okay.
While my rope continues to wear thin and fray.
I'll keep putting on my makeup like a mask.
And nobody will even know or think to ask.
Except when they see the cane, or wheelchair.
And all they'll look, wonder, and stair..
But no passerby will ever really, truly care..
So, here I sit falling deeper into my despair.
But will they ever ask? They wouldn't dare.


RebeccaDawn

June 8, 2009 1:36 am


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