How often now, does emptiness
consume me,
Traded here and there for stoic pain,
Desperation rising up, as hope
eludes me,
As the tears of sorrow fall like rain,
Mockery that irritates and just
disgusts me,
Always someone bleating the refrain,
I’m trapped amongst a people that
confound me,
Not enough to hear myself complain,
My uselessness demeans and so
frustrates me,
My hands worthy of so much disdain,

JDoyle