Let’s take some beauty from the vile,
Pay despair a little smile . . .
Twin sources of misery.
Why, do you call on me?
Are you the seeds of my demise?
Or but a stoke for my despise?
I hurt enough, do I not?
You’ve been around an awful lot.
Fomenting my peaceful stead.
Inciting agony instead.
But it’s just pain that you bring.
What about that other thing?
Suffering. From whence it came?
What if these twins are not the same?
Pain is that which has been sown,
But suffering’s borne of my own.
Pain arrives and leaves real fast,
But suffering, it seems to last.
Continues round, accentuates.
Its own pain it generates.
Pain is pain as I can see,
But suffering is made by me.
A choice borne of fibs and fear.
Why then do I keep it near?
© 2020 TheRememberings Ltd.