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When the pain becomes too much
And I can take no more,
I wrap myself in my arms
And lie down, giving in to my misery.
I lie here and I wonder
“What did I do, what more can I give you?”
Then I realise, it is futile.
That I have nothing else to give.
I have given my heart,
Given my soul,
Given every inch that I am.
I know I have made you happy,
Made you better,
Made you live.
But it has taken something from me.
What did I expect in return?
Kindness,
Nothing more.
And as I lie,
Face down,
I realize something
I’ve been ignoring all my life.
There is no kindness.
There is only pain.
When did it disappear
From those I called mine,
From those I needed in my life?
You were the last,
I promise myself.
Never again will another come to drain me,
Never again will I be kind,
Never again will I give all I have,
Only to be spurned
When I need that kindness back.
When you give of yourself so freely,
The only end is exhaustion,
When there is nothing left of yourself
To give anymore.
And so I lie here,
Exhausted and incomplete,
Wishing you had given me some of yourself in return,
Knowing I was a fool to expect it.
Knowing I was a fool to believe
That my kindness was inherent in others.
Why is it in me?
Why do I suffer it?
When all it does
Is disappear,
Given so easily to others I thought loved me,
I thought cared,
Until there is nothing left
And I am no more.
© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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