I'm weary; I seek a resting place.

I'm lonely; I need companionship.

My heart is sore; I require understanding.

My memories plague me; I must find peace.

But I don't know how to ask for these things.

Have I come to the right place?

Will my long journey finally end here?

Have I found what I've sought for so long,

Or is this another lovely, empty promise?

A theater with enticing, vacuous dialogue:

"I'm not an empathic person, but I play one here."

I cannot bear more disappointment;

Can't you feel my anguish?

One more hollow phrase will pierce me like a lance -

I will drown in this swirl of counterfeit caring

Like a helpless babe caught in a raging whirlpool.

Damn you; stop talking and listen!

Sense what I leave unexpressed.

You claim to have walked this path before me;

Can't you see through the bravado in my words?

Where is your insight and compassion?

I throb with sub-vocal cries for help;

I pulse with the need to reach out for support.

My eyes beseech even as I turn away...

But you do not discern my wordless plea...

You neither see nor hear the inner me.

I must move on.

©7/15/2006 by Thurman P. Woodfork