I’ll be frank:
I do not like what I feel.
Helpless, maybe,
The whirling wind almost knocking me to my feet
As I walk into the Drop Inn Center.
Even excellent thoughts struggle to help me now.
Smile.
Meanwhile, I am screaming inside.
“Why not me?”
Filling cups with water, scatterbrain-like,
And though I am not smart enough to leave,
I dream, higher level, to take this “thing” away.
“Hang onto this hope,” I want to say to them
And rid them of this shame obliterating
As we serve food and serve our minds,
Taking away pain by giving silent support
To those who need it.
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I am changing this around a lot...it seems too depressing.
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