Joy and Sorrow

I hate falling ill so often

I hate being alone in my den

When I am surrounded by friends,

I must a paint a picture penned

by me to disguise my pain.

In the end, it is all in vain

as their words but fall on my ears

and I feel detached and my fears

confuse my words and acts.

There are many facts

my pride hides from them.

I can hardly walk, there stems

my reluctance to catch a bus,

absolutely nothing else. Thus

its a simple reason, yet I feebly

blame my poor daddy.

I hate being a girl

sometimes.  All's a whirl

of concern and you are so dependent.

I have my guilt to contend

with when my mom travels to pick

me up from so far and it pricks

my conscience that I was glad

she did anyway. She's clad

with the mantle of duty

and I'm her biggest cause for worry.

A few kind words do numb my distress

but the balm wears off when they digress

back into their own lives. 

Yet out of the ashes of despair,

is born a new me. The fair

angel of righteousness

commands me when laziness

takes an upper hand. I strive

to give back to those who drive

toward me in care. My body and

mind become strong having grand

disappointments and disturbances.

I discover being alone is the biggest

distraction, with the largest 

network at hand and a library

to boot, my thoughts turn contrary

about solitude.

In the end, I surrender to God,

in both sorrow and joy and applaud

the care and blessings I've earned

as well as the trials and learnt

that I love my life and All izz well!