James Tipp (20-06-1945 / East London)
The Guest Called Pain
Pain that guest in our lives that is most unwelcome
He comes in many guises physical, mental emotional.
He is persistent and life denying, focusing our thoughts
Driving away the joy and goodness, so we seek isolation.
When we need others most, we are driven from them.
Pain is something never shared it is hidden, covered
Too much sharing brings that look of incomprehension
The listener can only say they’re sorry, but never feel.
The words that ‘God knows and understands’ are dry
They make no sense in the night of pain and darkness.
Light will come; hope is there, only when the pain recedes.
For now the pain is the master and you the slave
You wait in silence for the guest to leave, to live again.
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