I cry,
I will cry,
Because I need to,
Because I'm hurting,
And there's nothing I can do,
To stop the pain,
There's no one to who will listen,
No way to be noticed,
No hope for change,
Each year a trek through,
Cruel brambles cutting my skin,
Thick mud slowing my steps,
A thousand stings and insect bites,
All to get back,
To right where I started,
And start over,
And start crying again,
So I'm sorry if I sound desperate,
If I sound needy or pathetic or weak,
But I am,
I am so desperate,
For just one,
Hint of progress.