Sick

For I do not fight and I shall not combat,

This wrong and unwholesome feeling that keeps me where I am at.

For my skin wears thin whilst yours becomes thicker,

My encasing erodes as I become sicker.

Although I keep up the act and simulate a smile,

For it is your rarest behavior that makes it seem worthwhile. 

I would run to the edge and climb to the top,

To save your soul and hope that you will stop.

This ailment has got me and you ask what you can do,

I reply, "Nothing. For my very ailment is you."

You throw me down and smile as I fall,

At this moment I realize that you are the sickest of us all. 

Guilt overwhelms you and you extend your hand,

I need it because your words have hurt so bad that I can barely stand.

You force me to apologize and mend-

For hurting you was something I did not intend.

I am sent home alone and I wish to be buried,

And I wish to be pulled from the dirt by your arms in which I am to be carried.

I wish to take back what I thought was mine-

You tell me it does not belong to me and everything is fine.

I want to scream the words you will not have me express,

I wish to leave you as you leave me: in agony and distress. 

Reviews

[Steve]

well done! I like the thinking that went into this write.....

[Kevin]

This is a powerful poem. I loved the expression of emotion, and the flow of your words.

[alan khan]

i loved the first couple of lines. and the whole poem overall had some really great power to it. really great work jill.

[Roger Ferguson II]

best poem i've read on here so far! the rhyming is excellent and the wording is just great. good write :)