The Storm Inside

A Poem by Mazie

There are times when we feel that we must put on a brave face for others, to pretend we're ok. For me, this was before my major surgery.

Façades that do not suit me, wear me well;
The strength, they thought, I held within my hands,
But silent tears of endless pain all tell
A story not the same in eyes of tragic ends.
From bad to worse the storm it grew inside;
The darkest nights, they crushed that high-flight soul…
Strung all along, left wet and cold, I cried;
And then life known became a bleak and callous hole
Of lies and death, of endless wind and rain;
The storm it yielded not its spurn for life,
But left it that a tattered road of pain
To fester that, my mounting cross of strife.
And now I face a foe from long before,
The past returns to wield a final war.