When is this ever going to end? I feel like my time is wasted being so unhappy. Years flash by in a blur and things haven't changed. I have no friends to share with, no one to take solace in. The Lord tells me to hope but after a certain amount of hoping and being in want goes by you begin to get angry and doubt that there is anything to hope for and you ask him "why, why have not you done anything? What's the point in hoping anymore? If you are so faithful then why have you proven to be unfaithful when I have commited to you my need?" I feel my youthfulness slipping away, I have become a no body to no body. My value and worth mean nothing but are simply wasted like a wasted dream. A flower that has bloomed and withered away and is not beautiful to look at anymore but rather is only looked upon to for it's pollen. A bee uses it and moves on, not good for anything else anymore. Not even to look upon or for someone to stop and smell it's fragrance. Eventually the flower loses it's scent because it isn't needed anymore, but rather it withers and it dies... forgotten like yesterdays trash.
That is my purpose in life, to raise my kids. To love them and to lead them, give inspiration to them. I'm sure I'll still be important to them even when they grow old, but that seems the extent of my usefulness during these times. It's like being in a metal box, and screaming so someone can open it and set me free so that I can do my good in the world, but no one listens. And those who pass by don't understand what I need. When they do open it curiously, they glance, and then shut it again. Or I scream and and grow and expand in this tiny little box just to increase the pressure but just when you think that it has got to finally give and explode, it settles back into it's stubborn solid foundation and stops exanding and I am frustrated but have no more breath or will or desire to breath. I want to leave this metal box that is so stubborn, content and uncaring, but I don't, I keep myself there having a little bit of hope but that hope is really tested and I live unhappy, so scrunched and discontent without the will to do anything about it... because I hope... I hope... I hope. When will it ever end?
That is my purpose in life, to raise my kids. To love them and to lead them, give inspiration to them. I'm sure I'll still be important to them even when they grow old, but that seems the extent of my usefulness during these times. It's like being in a metal box, and screaming so someone can open it and set me free so that I can do my good in the world, but no one listens. And those who pass by don't understand what I need. When they do open it curiously, they glance, and then shut it again. Or I scream and and grow and expand in this tiny little box just to increase the pressure but just when you think that it has got to finally give and explode, it settles back into it's stubborn solid foundation and stops exanding and I am frustrated but have no more breath or will or desire to breath. I want to leave this metal box that is so stubborn, content and uncaring, but I don't, I keep myself there having a little bit of hope but that hope is really tested and I live unhappy, so scrunched and discontent without the will to do anything about it... because I hope... I hope... I hope. When will it ever end?
