Empty, oh so empty
The deepest, bleakest emptiness
I ever thought possible to feel.
The hole that’s left when prayers and hopes
Are callously ripped out
And replaced with nothing.
It’s pariah time again,
Rejection, the feeling that
Nothing I could ever possibly do
Would ever make it right, and that it’s not
What I do, but who I am
That calls into question
My reason for existence.
Anger bubbles up, over
And around like a simmering
Stew. The desire to make
THEM pay, just for once, but knowing the
Futility of rage taking control,.
Anger: a great servant,
A lousy master.
A day of judgment will come,
So I’m told. A day when all
Will be measured against a standard
Impossible for anyone to attain. I will be found
Wanting like everyone else, But I
Will be as sure then as today:
I trust the Measurer.
May 17, 2010