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Feb 2014
The Understanding

I scream but make no sound,
I tear at the walls but they hold solid.
With all my rage I scream again and show it my fangs
But, it is unimpressed.
It looks at me without blinking or expression,
It acknowledges that time does pass but it will never yield.
It is both monolithic and miniscule in size and determination,
And never once will it allow me to gain an inch.
What is this foes name and why do we all fear it?
Will its long talons never ease their unyielding grip?
Will I wake up and start all over again, or just start a new?
I can ask but I will never know until it happens.
Tomorrow is indeed another day and another battle to win and loose of my own free choice.
So tomorrow we begin anew, and fresh.
A parley of terms agreed upon by two embattled foes.
Where will we start?
When will it end?
Why do we dance?
Will this be my life?
Will this be my legacy?
All of this is the same and different keeping us at our wits end.
Depression is your name, hope is my only sword.
Come let us embrace again!
It should not come to anyone's surprise why creative people struggle. It is the razors edge.
Murl Harmon
Written by
Murl Harmon  Georgia
(Georgia)   
236
 
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