Fallible Laughter – Poetry Prompt 52

Don’t laugh at me.
Don’t call me names.
Don’t get your pleasure from my pain.
In God’s eyes we’re all the same.
Don’t laugh at me.
-Mark Wills, singer
What is life like in the end?
But when is the end?
 
You are living as well as can be,
Does it matter that you’re clothes are grey?
Once they held color
A spark of life indeed!
Now they are soft 
And mostly colorless,
But comfy nonetheless.
 
You are just a child,
One of many
And yet there’s always enough.
People watch you play,
You’re never lonely.
So why do their noses tip up?
Maybe they ran into a door?
 
You watch as people come and go,
Why are so many things leaving?
Where has everyone gone?
Why are their so many boxes around?
Can we not let daddy in?
Why must we keep the door locked.
Why, mommy, do you cry so much?
 
Why do the neighbors look down upon us?
Is it because we cannot keep the grass alive?
We’ve tried just about everything!
The trees survive…mostly…
The bushes survive
In fact they thrive!
Fruit they over abundantly share.
 
We’re leaving! We’re leaving!
The Spirit can speak to many
In revelations very personal to any.
Yet why is it that He cannot speak to us?
To move our family as He has so many others.
Why can He speak to you, but not to me?
He is no respecter of persons.
 
So we must work as hard as can be,
We cannot stop moving for even a moment.
Once we stop, we will not start.
Why is it that our labors are never enough?
People tell us that we will never float,
That soon we shall sink.
Why drag us further when it is all to tread water?
 
Times are rough,
They always seem to be.
Yet I shall keep on going
And never despair to be
For I am more than just this moment.
I am before and tomorrow as well
Because it is for myself I live.
 
Other people’s opinions and choices are theirs.
I can only answer for my own.

Written for one of Pooky’s Poetry Prompts: http://pookypoetry.wordpress.com/2014/06/21/poetry-prompt-52-stigma/

Also because this is something that I have lived with, seen and tried really hard to not be a part of (on either side of the fence). I am not perfect. I do not claim to be, but sometimes…

Sometimes I’m human and stupid and fallible. And sometimes I need a swift kick in the head.