Others Peeling Me Like An Onion Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Offenses of others are peeling me like an onion,
causing me to cry incessantly.
Wanting to find some comfort along the way,
seems to be impossible on any day in life.
Sorrowfully, I escape into my little world of
paper, living for the words that I write constantly.
Emptying my mind into this paper world, leaves me
bereft of friendly company, yet gives me the stamina
to continue living in spite of everything.
Settling down along imaginations' intellect, I can
stay sane and in a beautiful frame of mind.
This is how love feels when I find it, solace filling
me with an electric charge of fidelity in life.