Who Am I?

craig-daugherty Poems

I awake to a world filled with black and white— only a splash or two of color here and there—a world broken, a wasteland in which I wander, lost, alone. Brokenness all around; “Is this all there is?” I wonder; “Is this the way it should be, the way it must be”—a reflection of my ever darkened soul. “Who am I?” I cry out into the mirror of this world, hating those empty, hurt-soaked eyes staring back at me. I’m alone, broken, hope flees. Despair invades that hope-fled space, all corners of my soul; my cancerous hearts threatens to implode—only a scream of pain brings solace of sorts. “Who am I?” I scream as I journey through my days—the city sidewalks seem filled with walking dead—I pause now as I reflect. “Who am I?” I whisper from so deep within. “Who am I?” I am the broken one --lost --confused --alone --so drenched in fear I am the one from a broken home --unloved --unworthy --fatherless ***** --ashamed --an orphan of the world I am the one so overwhelmed --no where to turn --no one I truly can call friend I am the sick, afraid of death… I am the one without a mother; --the one abused, and used, --so bruised by the world. I am the forgotten, the one who cannot forgive— worse yet, unable to be forgiven. I am the unloved, --unable to love --filled with lust --consumed by hate --What is love? “That’s who I am?” The world goes cruising by, leaving me even more than alone, more confused— I am in the darkness now. I scream out, aloud… “Show me the way!!!” Darkness surrounds, despair abounds! Slowly, a light appears, two paths revealed. One path promises more of the same, this world, oh so much more of the same—promises everything, delivers NOTHING: delivers pain, despair. This path is safe, feels so secure. It beckons, it calls—oh yes, I see, even now the pain, the brokenness, the emptiness seems to recede—as a life lived numb—not living at all. Another path calls, almost missed, the colors, the life, scares me away, so filled with hope and dreams. UNKNOWN! But pain. “Danger,” my soul screams. A path not safe, but, oh so good. It hits, I understand…I think. A cross across the path A pool of healing --of redemption --of worth --of relationship --of life, of purpose, of call… Filled with meaning now—a healing pool beckons to remove years of hurt, years of broken, empty living. Each layer removed—a primal roar of healing begins……. I see others walking a path filled with black and white—only a splash of color here and there—a world broken, a wasteland in which they wander…. Perhaps I’ll tell them of this new path I found…