This will probably get me into trouble with certain individuals if I talk about this, but I am being driven to the brink, to the edge of sanity, to a point where I will no longer be able to control myself and explode in a fury of emotion.
I am so tired of doing the thinking for so many people. No one wants to decide anything for themselves for fear of making the wrong decision. No one wants to take responsibility for anything, and they will pass the buck faster than the stock market would rise tomorrow if the Federal Reserve would lower interest rates by a full percentage point today.
I am tired of being the person people walk up to too lodge a complaint with about someone else. Frustrated with being the Voice of Reason and yet still ignored when we get down to brass tax.
I have no outlet except this blog, and if this post is the butterfly flapping it’s wings, then so be it. Let the storm rage against me, for I know that even the most violent hurricane will blow itself out eventually.
I present as part of this blog, a poem that occurred to me. It is a variation on a theme, the same yet different to one I posted previously;
I am so tired of doing the thinking for so many people. No one wants to decide anything for themselves for fear of making the wrong decision. No one wants to take responsibility for anything, and they will pass the buck faster than the stock market would rise tomorrow if the Federal Reserve would lower interest rates by a full percentage point today.
I am tired of being the person people walk up to too lodge a complaint with about someone else. Frustrated with being the Voice of Reason and yet still ignored when we get down to brass tax.
I have no outlet except this blog, and if this post is the butterfly flapping it’s wings, then so be it. Let the storm rage against me, for I know that even the most violent hurricane will blow itself out eventually.
I present as part of this blog, a poem that occurred to me. It is a variation on a theme, the same yet different to one I posted previously;
I am rage,
I am compassion.
I am frustration,
I am consideration.
I am grief,
I am joy.
I am the fire,
I am the frost.
I am bedlam,
I am perfect silence.
I am alone,
Yet I am never left alone.
I am the pool of still water.
I am the image of peace and tranquility,
But I run very deep.
I am currents and cross currents,
I am riptides and undertows,
I am the concealing darkness,
I am the longing for the light.
I want, yet I grow weary of what I have.
I yearn to release my grip, yet feel terror at the thought of letting go.
I am made of dark passions,
A desire to hurt,
A desire to heal.
A desire to inflict pain & punishment,
A desire to love and bestow my favor.
I want to scream,
Yet I am forced to remain silent.
I desire to rage against the world,
Yet I dare not show the slightest discontent lest I be called unreasonable.
I am all these things and more,
I am made of dark passions,
A desire to hurt,
A desire to heal.
A desire to inflict pain & punishment,
A desire to love and bestow my favor.
I want to scream,
Yet I am forced to remain silent.
I desire to rage against the world,
Yet I dare not show the slightest discontent lest I be called unreasonable.
I am all these things and more,
And I fear sometimes I am going insane.
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