Jeremiad

No more climbing, no more fighting, no more hoping for a better day;
I lay down my cards.
I have been beaten.
This time I thought I could make it,
I thought I had closed the door on the devil.
I wanted to believe the angels were with me.
This time I thought I could win.
"Follow your heart, believe in tomorrow, trust the universe" they said.
"It can only get better, you just have to believe in yourself," they said.
"You just have to find your niche" they said.
Maybe this world is comforting for them;
they who carry beautiful memories
of good times, friendship, acclaim and love.
They who have someone to call whenever there are tears,
somewhere to stay whenever they are without shelter,
someone to hold them whenever they need comfort,
someone to applaud them whenever they lift their feet.
They who have not felt the cold of the street.
They who have not felt
the burn of destitution;
the dread of abuse;
the stab of abandonment;
the terror of losing life;
the death of hope.
Not so comforting for those of us with memories full of fear,
struggle, loss and betrayal.
They don't want to look too closely, so they don't. They can't.
They need it to be a bad dream, a dark fantasy that never happened.
No more climbing, no more fighting, no more hoping for a better day;
I lay down my cards.
I have been beaten.
.
.