Sunday evening thoughts

You think that I am strong,
And yet I feel so weak.
I rush to bring a smile,
But I’m empty underneath.
I’d love to be there dancing,
But find I’m sitting on the side.
I’d love to be included,
As worthwhile in other lives.

It’s not the same to be,
The carer all the time,
The one who heals the wound,
To watch them walk away.
It’s not the life I’d choose,
But it’s the one I have to live.
Watching happily ever afters,
From the sideline shadows, dark.

Perhaps my time will come,
But the clock still ticks away,
And all the while I bleed,
While others laugh and play.
But all my youth is gone,
And my vigor it has passed,
And the romance of a lifetime,
Is a memory not known.

As I sit here in my room,
My tormentors by my side,
Who love to poke the wounds,
And open up the scars,
Perhaps I should make do,
And forget the dreams of old.
Perhaps it’s time to leave,
Than to live alone and old.

The clock ticks through the night,
As I sit here in the dark,
Too sad to greet the dawn,
Too scared to join the night,
And as the sunlight filters,
Through the windows of my room,
I’ll face the world with smiles,
As inside I quietly cry.


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