My Fault

So sad, so sad, with no end in sight
There is an ending that’s not so bright
It comes with death but is not soon there
So sadly it remains, so hard to bear

It is always like that throughout my life
Outwardly pleasant, with inward strife
As normal as can be it might look
But inwardness is not to be mistook

I do the normal things like everyone
But my personal sorrows are never done
Pushed out of the way as not to present
Avoiding the rough spots, my soul is rent

I cannot speak without changes severe
It is not things I ever wanted to hear
Not like murder or such similar sins
But prejudice and hatred where nobody wins

I cry to myself, and shout to be heard
But in the end there is no real word
My voice is weak when needed the most
And so the suffering is done by its host

Is there no force to compete with my lack
My fears pile in a horrendous stack
To touch them is to cause a fall
An exposure from behind the wall

Barbara Blackcinder


About Barbara Blackcinder

I am a poet/writer with a need for words. There are so many out there that I haven't used yet. They define all reality and mine when you read those from me.
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