You spend all your life working to make something more,
something that will make you feel okay.
Surround yourself with those who you love and adore.
It’s not enough at the end of the day.
There’s only emptiness, a numbness without name.
You hope for some escape into dream.
On your pillow, your eyes seep your shame,
only you know you’re not what you seem.
You want one day where the plan is more clear.
Is there purpose for indifference and neglect,
for the poverty, disease, violence and the fear?
Why we don’t all deserve dignity and respect.
So weary in the soul, mirrors everywhere that you turn,
disappointment and failure looking back.
And this life grinds on, painful lessons you learn.
You can’t see what you have for want of your lack.
You want to make a difference, in somebody’s life.
It’s easier in theirs than your own.
Is this reflection of sadness, perhaps a touch of madness?
Possibilities chill to the bone.
Just for a moment you would like to be sure,
convinced of your faith, of doubt without a trace,
for this whole mess there is Divine cure,
that hopelessness and despair you can help to erase,
in yourself, if not in the world you endure.
M. Zane McClellan
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