Lucky Am I
That which I strive to set free
Seems intent on destroying me.
The sensitivity with which I see
Refuses to leave and let me be.
The pain and suffering that I feel
Hopefully someday will be still.
But if that should happen, will
It be the tolling of death's bell?
The peace I hope to find
Is never there, only a kind
Of stillness before the storm
Awaits to greet me each morn.
The happiness I’m after
Gets lost in sad laughter,
And that which makes me sad
Also appears to makes me glad.
I search for the meaning to it all,
No answer, just a low siren's call
Saying live through one more pain
Then all life's answer I will gain.
But each new pain brings yet another
Question to set my soul all abother
Till at last I understand this to be so,
There are more answers than I can know.
But in blindness I seek and grope
Always with the ever present hope
That what I suffer will lend a hand
Helping others take steps unplanned.
Why do some endure this pain?
What is it they hope to gain?
A higher starting place for those
Who follow, to soften life's blows.
In spite of all of this
It is often like a kiss
Of death hovering over me
But I know nothing is free.
Would I trade my discomfort
For a safe haven, a closed port?
No, a million times no. You see
I get much more than I receive.
Still I often yell
To the four winds--hell
"Why me oh pray tell?"
"Why not?"--the winds rail.
Don Miller
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