A poem by Martyn Foster.
Pain
Is it the most real thing in existence?
The unpleasant sensations
Striking at the core of our being
Causing much discomfort and ache
Physically…emotionally…
A short while feels like an eternity
Pain
The ability to drive the sane person mad
To spiral a person into the depths
Sailing through the storms
As the waves of contempt
For existence itself keep coming
Yearning for death’s embrace
Pain
The inability to help someone you love
To watch the struggle unfold
Before your eyes, unable
Hands tied behind your back
Even though they are within reach
Feeling the pain twice over
To not be with someone you want
To be left alone outside in the cold
And yet on the inside even colder
To not be wanted or cared for
Shall I stay here or shall I go
“The cure for the pain is in the pain”
Pain.
A poem by Martyn Foster.
