Then got mad because I rarely if ever go anywhere. The reason being we have generally only had one vechical that barely worked. Also we've never as a general rule had any extra for me to go anyplace at all.
Now it would be nice if I had full time employment with my own income, and a vechical of my own that I could actually drive without it having to be worked on for some problem or other that I never noticed at all. That though is another story all together.
I've been so often accused of not trying to visit family or friends, yet, how is it because I am such bad company they do not wish to come around. No, I have been told repeatedly it is my living conditions, etc, etc.
So time and distance has grown, and now I have no close family or any real friends at all, I suppose I never really did anyway.
Now, I've grown old, and basically have no purpose at all in life, I guess I am just marking the days, one by one, as every day is the same. All days run in together. That's just the way it is I suppose.
This was also written for my sister and my brother who both said some things so horrible to me that it was impossible to understand. My oldest son was given death threats, then he died, in a way that was foretold he would, my sister told me she could not come around me as she needed her space, yet, she went directly over to those who had threatened him, saying she needed space. Basically that she needed to be around people who made her comfortable.
A poem about hurt and pain, that cuts very, very deeply.
| http://voices.yahoo.com/the-distance-quite-still-5722098.html?cat=10 The Distance it is Quite Still the Same The distance from your house to mine it is the same. The distance from my house to yours it is still the same. You say I don't come to visit you. This may be in fact be true- There are some facts you believe that are colored by your own limited ignorance. Believing yourself to be justified you turn to finish your selfish dance. You see the difficulties in your own life. You see why you face many a delay. Yet you see no delay in mine, you see no difficulty for me, you believe I must pay. You say your avoidance during one of my most heartbreaking times was because it was just too much. You tell me how you were upset, how you were so upset; perhaps you've forgotten who loved the one who died a bunch. It was my child who died. It was my child who cried. It was your friends who sought death; it was your friends who told many a cruel lie. It was to your friends you ran, seeking condolence for a crime committed, never even stopping to wonder why. A crime it was committed it is true. Have you ever looked into the midnight sky and wondered why it is so deeply blue? The distance from my house to yours it is the same. You say I don't visit you, I can say very much the same. You wonder why so very often I don't come by. Perhaps you wonder why. You think you know, yet you've not a clue, this is no lie. It isn't quite what you think. You see the pain it runs far too deep, please don't blink. You see I've stayed silent as you lay so many charges to my name. Silently I've listened to the lies, knowing from where they came. The distance from my house to yours it's quite the same. The distance from your house to mine it's still the same. The choice you've made, the company you choose it is your choice it is true. But my dearest the company you choose it is those whose hands are bloody and full of rue. Bloody and full of rue, guilty as the one who drove away. Guilty they are this fact it will never fade away. You believe I am snobby, prideful and perhaps hateful too. Yet, my dearest did you not know it was my heart that was fully cracked and broken in two. You say it was too much, too see my face. It was just too much, to come to my place. Yet, my dearest you've found peace and comfort with those who condemned another to death. My dearest look in the mirror, you say I could do so much, but really I have no more to give. Judging others you forget, you've no right. It's not your place. Have you forgotten his face? You hold fast those who planned and sought my death for many a year. Believing yourself to be better than I you've never shed a tear. It was not your child. The pain you felt was it for real or just for a little while? You've said so many things so vile and cruel, for reasons I have yet to understand. Telling me I was not really wanted for the final visitation, cruel words cutting sharper than a slap of the hand. Perhaps it is because of hate, that you chose your words to cause me pain. Perhaps you have something to gain? I truly don't understand. Perhaps it is me? Perhaps I've offended you in some way, and this is how you show your pain to me? You say I did not come to visit when you were with another. This is very true, I could say nothing other. Yet, you do not know my circumstance. Perhaps, I don't understand the life you dance. Often I've wondered why, some things you do. Things such as blowing the horn or making your latest mate wait alone for you. Waiting as my home is not to your standard. Waiting as you are ashamed for others to see my deck of cards, perhaps I'm down to my final card. Life it is short, failings are a plenty. Sorrows so deeply carved separate dearest of relations, even those who once shared a late tea. The distance from your house to mine, it is the same. The distance from my house to yours it is the same. Your circumstances lead you to your dance. Mine will soon lead to my final dance. Relations severed sometimes remain distant and cold. Reasons a plenty, but soon we'll grow old. There's a mystery in this poem, that's been told. Only those who search the mirror can know the secrets that this poem does hold. |
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