No Sense, No Purpose
3/25/09
Why do I feel this way?
Why don’t I understand?
Is there any reason?
Or is this just the plan?
This awkward desensitization,
This complex meaning,
The way it all unfolds
Makes me wonder.
Why am I here?
What should I do now?
How can I fix this?
Why can’t I know this?
Will you tell me please,
What I can do to ease
This tense frustration
And once again feel peace?
Am I not allowed to know?
Is the plan so much of a secret
That not even the builders get to know?
How can the world be built on such mistrust?
I won’t tell, I won’t repeat,
What I’m told, I only seek,
Simple assurance that my life
Isn’t just the backup plan.
Why do I feel like it’s my job
To be the trash bag of those around me?
Not all, but so many use me,
And don’t replace the bag when it’s full.
I’m taken for granted and beat upon.
I’m the punching bag for their pain.
They relentlessly shoot me down
Before I even get up.
And then there’re those worth living for,
Those I love to death.
They care for me and I for them,
For all my life is worth.
About the Creator
Thor Grey (G. Steven Moore)
Storyteller writing fiction, poetry, and essays inspired by resilience, curiosity, and the complexities of being human. Every piece is an invitation to reflect, imagine, and grow.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.