Chris Prosser

Life By Myself - Poem by Chris Prosser

No one could know that my inside is dying
beneath all the smiling and laughing and lying
but one thing is certain: I'm so tired of trying
to live my whole life by myself.

Finger-filled hands point in every direction
except back at me and my so-called perfection.
I never need healing or love or affection
and live my whole life by myself.

I can't let you in, as hard as I try.
I think it will hurt but I can't explain why.
Is this life worth living? I'm just getting by
if I live my whole life by myself.

Someone to love there's a surprise.
But how do I know I'm not being unwise?
Or what if they're actually covered in lies?
So I live my whole life by myself.

Does anyone see this? Can they hear me scream
Or are they still chasing their own selfish dream?
Does anyone care that I'm not what I seem,
that I live my whole life by myself?

Yes...there was one that I heard of of old:
A light in the darkness and warmth in the cold,
A blinding white Hero of glory untold
who could save me from life by myself.

He wraps me in blankets so calming and true
and smiling says, ' was I who made you.
Forever I'll love you and carry you through.
Enough of this life by yourself.'

We walk hand in hand through the valleys of peace
and suddenly all of my striving has ceased
because even though out of these I was least
he brought me back home to a Heavenly feast.

Then somehow he's gone and I'm left all alone
to sorrowful searching for how to atone
and beauty and life now seem dry as a bone
while I live my whole life by myself.

Why am I stuck like this? When will it end?
I'm trapped in this life of unending pretend.
It feels like I might be too broken to mend
while I live my whole life by myself.

I'm too scared to hope and the evil remains.
I feel locked up tight deep inside of my pains.
When will the sun start to shine through the cold rains?
Must I live my whole life by myself?

'No, ' they say, 'Be still. We're here.
We've come here to love you and tackle your fear
and we'll share your burden and make the path clear
so you don't have to live by yourself.'

At last, at last, at very long last
I see my hands bloodied and stand back aghast
but this pain and sorrow belong to the past,
and so does this life by myself.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 25, 2010

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