I am tired.
Tired of feeling alone.
  Tired of feeling unneeded.
   Tired of feeling ignored.
    You only talk to me
      When you need help.
        When you need advice.
           I'll ask
            'Hey how are you doing?'
-Silence
              'Hey what are you doing today?'
-Silence
              
                   I am Sick
                     Sick of feeling useless.
                       Sick of feeling stepped on.
                         Sick of being spoken to
                           only when those around me need help,
                               For they know I will never turn down a 'friend.'
                                    A 'Loved One,'
                                        A 'Confidant.'

                          To whom do helpers turn in time of need?
                                             In times of sorrow?
                                              In times of panic?
                                     What holds the mighty rock?
                                  The rock that breaks the waves?
                                     The rock whose sole purpose
                           Seems to be protection against the sea?
                                            Who helps the rock?
                              When the ground begins to tremble
                                       And open its mighty maw?
                                            To whom do I turn?
                                            On whom do I lean?
              When I am Sick?                                     When I am Tired?
        
                                                                ­                              Because I am Sick,
                                                           ­            And I am Tired
                                          And I am closed.

What shines in darkness like a hopeful light.
Who brings an end to a tunnel so long.
A never ending mire so deep and thick
Who's tendrils snag, snarl, deceit and creep.
The Mind, the Body, all obscured by smoke.

But yet a light appear here in the moor,
A friend who's beckon calls to you once more.
Come now from this land in a warm embrace
With words so welcoming to you, a call
that wraps you tight and warms your every bone.

So call out to your friends, your words can help.
For words alone do help them such as light,
to show you care and lead them home with love;
a path cut through the reeds, and weeds, and mud
Which leads them out and back into the fold.