We, Who Cannot Love Freely... Poem by david lessard

We, who cannot love freely,
are doomed to exist without it -
We, who cannot touch without a thought,
Ourselves, are living untouched.

We, who find it hard to show compassion,
are suffering from the lack of it -
We, who sleep separately, die alone.
We, who cannot express, the deep soul of
our existence,
will struggle all of our lives, to be accepted.

We will be misunderstood,
laughed at,
ridiculed,
and left alone,
to follow pathways of
our own choosing.
The roads will be passengerless
and empty.
The hills, long,
inclining upward
and progressively difficult.

We will always be climbing mountains,
in fair or foul weather,
our eyes searching for
the end of the trail...
our hearts longing for
the peaceful destination
that we know, awaits us.

What God we know,
will sustain our course.
What little taste of life
we acknowlege,
will ease our burden.

The solitary individual
is forever lonely.
The life that he or she
has chosen,
was never meant to be,
one of contentment.

Robert W. Service called them
A Race Of Men That Don't Fit In,
and The Ryhmes Of The Restless Ones.

Where do you fit in?