Weary Poem by Jan E Smith

My soul grows weary of the fight,
of who is wrong and what is right.

Angry words, though spoken clear,
seem muddled and I can not hear.

Too much time has passed us by.
If this is life, why do I try?

I search to find the inner you,
The man who said to me 'I do'.

But now I feel so very low.
So little that I really know.

Though I try so hard, I seem to fail.
Thus my life and thus the tale.

Each day I read the Holy book,
go to work, come home and cook,

tend to the children, clean a mess.
Not perfect though, I must confess.

But often I can't do it right.
Then come the words, then the fight.

And do you truly know me well?
There is so much that I could tell.

Of who I am and what I do.
Or how I want the best for you.

Of all my fears and how I feel.
The inner me, the one that's real.

So many times I stop and pray
God bring us close in every way.

And late at night when time to rest,
I pray for us to pass life's test.