The Weight I Carry
As I sit here and write, there is one constant thought,
Of the battles I’ve lost and the ones that I’ve fought.
If I take my own life and I leave this behind,
What remains of the spirit, the heart, and the mind?
Broken siblings and sons would be left in the wake,
Yet I feel so alone in this heavy heartache.
I have shattered the smiles, I have broken the trust,
As my thoughts turned to bile and my world turned to dust.
There’s a sickness inside that has tainted my life,
Lost my home and the woman I’d call my wife.
They say that these feelings are fleeting and brief,
But a hundred years vary when drowning in grief.
It feels like the end is approaching the gate,
Until I see my sons, and the shadows abate.
They run round the bend with a power so deep,
A secret of strength that I hope they can keep.
Though the medicine fails and the darkness stays real,
And the hollow is something that no one can heal,
I will hold to the light that my children still give,
And while I have breath, I will choose to live.