Marcy

It seems that change comes rushing in,
When you least expect or need,
And all the while we wander about,
Not knowing how we bleed,
There are times we take pleasure,
In making someone feel good,
Wondering when it comes our way,
Though not wondering if they should.
 
 
A will to live is what remains,
But at times that will grows thin,
Wondering when the healing comes,
Or is it to late for it to begin,
You sit and ponder all you’ve done,
Wondering what went wrong,
The common sense that you possess,
Just didn’t come along.
 
 
It seems the the person isn’t you,
That there’s someone else inside,
And somehow in a stressful time,
The real you just hides,
With a sense of insecurity,
And guilt that reaches from the past,
Will this continue on and on,
How long will it last.
 
 
You sit and analyze beforehand,
Determine what you will and will not do,
But who controls the steering wheel,
If in reality it isn’t you,
Is it possible to be controlled,
By some unseen inner hand,
As all it seems you really hold,
Is just grains of trickling sand.
 
 
How do we measure sanity,
When there’s little to use as a guide,
In our lives is insanity needed,
For a measure of same to be applied,
There are labels for every malady,
But how do we label the cure,
The time wasted placing the label,
Gives the issue more time to endure.
 
 
No two of us are exactly alike,
So many factors can differ,
But you have to bend a little,
Instead of only getting stiffer,
Maybe your thoughts are more random,
Or you sense vibrations in the air,
Because all that anyone needs,
Is to know that someone truly cares.

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