A Different Kind of Dying

Here I stand outside the circle again,
Not really being here at all,
Trying to assimilate the interpretation
One wishes me to make,
Yet, I feel helpless, worthless of it all.
I wonder time after time what is my self worth?
My ego has been beaten down,
Into the dark nothing that
Is endless.

Here I stand outside the circle again,
Not really being here at all,
Knowing in my heart of hearts
That no one really loves me,
That life is an endless agony.

What is the purpose when all those
around me make me feel so
selfish, unloving, and I am besides myself.

Is this mental anguish worth the pain?
Is it worthy of living to love someone?
Be they your flesh and blood,
Be they your true love?

If I cannot ease my pain,
How can I ease theirs?
I wish that I could climb that
Stair way to Heaven,
And not feel.
Not hurt,
Not live.

To take the chance on love,
How am I to listen to how
I am so selfish, hateful, a
Loser and user,
Why do I have to start my life over again?
Was everyone right?
There is something wrong with me.
Perhaps I should not fight so hard
Be passive and not try to live out my dreams,

Donna Layne Roberts

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