yourself

You know not of my loses

yet think I’m deeply blessed

You see my smile

and ignore my pain

You accept only my happiness

and care not for my heartache

You see my ears

and ignore my mouth

You cry upon my shoulder

but dismiss my outstretched hand

You call me with your wants

never to just say “how are you”

You are quick to show me my faults

and readily excuse your own

And yet, you call me a friend?

a light of hope?

There is an element of me that I just don’t understand, what draws the wounded to me, why do they seek me out? Do they see in me a light of hope? Do they see me as someone who is strong? Or do they see me as someone who is weak?

What is the allure for the wounded, the broken, the hopeless or the helpless? Although my walk is far from elegant I don’t see the limp, am I missing something or am I looking in the wrong mirror? Do people see me as someone who has been there, done that and somehow has the magic answer for how to get through to the other side? Or do people see me as a big Kleenex?

Perhaps it’s not as important to know the why but rather the importance is in me being able to simply accept that it is. And yet, I wonder, am I a light of hope?

it’s a two way street

If I thought you really cared

     I may be willing to share

But you ignore my tears

     laughed at my fears

And now you’re on the phone

     wanting to bend my ear

I was once your child

but now I belong to someone else

You slammed the door

while my fingers were still there

Leaving nothing behind

but pain

It is a two way street

     this road of love

But you’ve never met me half way

     I am unwilling to walk more than my share

It is a two way street, this road of care

You’ve lost your way and I’ve lost my map