Walking In Someone Else's Shoes
I feel like this about life...
If you have reached your 40's,50's and 60's
With a lack of identity and understanding,
As to who you are?
Do not expect from me my patience,
Or a tolerant hand to hold.
I've been called 'nutt's too often by those,
Who are still seeking approval from their mamas
And papas.
With some folks whining,
As if they need their diapers changed.
And the years I endured through emotional pain...
God came to my aid.
And saved me from back to back heartbreak.
With few caring less 'how' I survived!
As long as I was there to hear their complaints,
My pain to them was insignificant.
And as I observe and comprehend how some can be...
I see them now the same way,
Without concern.
There 'is' a caring!
However...
I don't get wrapped up dramatically about it,
Like some folks.
There is something to be said,
About walking in someone else's shoes!
They may look easy and comfortable to wear...
Until it is realized,
The fit just isn't 'that' comfortable.
A perception handed to one on a plate to eat...
With a choice to live life,
Is not life lived to experience all it offers.
Even if one is not ready for the experience...
There is a process called 'growth' that is done!
A maturity that happens,
When one heals and recovers from mental insecurities...
Of all kinds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
It Is Best to Leave This Mindset Alone
There will always be those,
Who attempt to match wits...
With those who comprehend
The advantages of understanding.
Some folks live within a box regarded as safe.
And from inside a point of view of outside events...
They choose to argue their findings,
Condensed...
From a state of mind that is comfortable,
But for those who have discovered 'reality'...
They know this makes no sense.
And to produce beneficial chit chat,
Does not induce a growth of thought.
When a sharing is lost with one who's mind is stuck...
Deluded in visions found too comfortable.
And eventually these folks others must give up!
A process attached to learning,
For some is a worthless yearning.
And for them a progress is created from isolation.
Where ignorance is encouraged to thrive and manifest.
It is best to leave this mindset,
Alone!
They perceive time sits to wait for them,
To be condoned!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Understanding Has Been Acquired
Experience is not from a classroom taught.
That is a process life only offers.
To believe that one can teach,
Or receive experience...
To relieve the sacrifices that come as a reward,
Is to click one's heels three times,
In the hopes Auntie Em has a freshly baked apple pie...
Just pulled from the oven,
Upon one's return from the Land of Oz!
Could be associated with having a drug induced,
Experience.
And these things happen!
Anything is possible.
Like a child hoping to escape a spanking...
Once it has been discovered,
The family cat has been put inside the refrigerator.
How does one handle this situation?
That's a judgement issue.
However,
After the tenth pet has been found in this manner...
There is a real need to take this as a serious issue.
Now...IF,
One was to serve the cat for dinner,
And watch the child nibble on it?
That is an experience that will never be forgotten!
You can say...
Experience, in this example, has definitely been achieved!
An understanding has been acquired.
And desired results...
Develop over time,
With psychological adjustments!
Can be obtained.
Maybe a little costly...
But obtainable!
Hopefully...
In some unique cases,
The avoidance of permanent mental damage...
Is recommended.
But,
We must never look back,
Wishing to have taken other actions!
We must be careful not to be too extreme,
When making our decisions.
We must...
At all cost,
Avoid having someone else's experiences...
Haunt us for the rest of our lives!
Anger fits can linger!
We have to set aside time for those adjustments.
Some take longer than others.
Experience is a mind altering change.
For some...
This process expands comprehension!
And yet,
For others...
They are left scarred for the rest of their lives!
Like one who is forced to eat broccoli.
Lima beans is my thing.
To this day I can't stand them!
And I'm sure the feeling is mutual!
However...
It is very rare these life changes,
Can be instructed.
Although some experiences,
Can leave folks traumaticized!
And these we must consider as 'Prozac Specials'.
They will be 'numb' up for quite sometime.
Some are slower at recovery than others!
Involving the aforementioned experience.
And we must be more patient with these kinds of minds.
One never knows...
When the cracking might snap.
And hopefully with some therapy...
Some folks are able to use their experiences,
As an insight for others to prove...
Even those with dysfunctions,
Can become quite successful...
At keeping their 'ailments' undetected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Growing Up In the Projects
You want to know what it's like,
To grow up in the projects?
Being different and taking risks?
'Can't be that bad! '
Follow me.
'Where are we going? '
Up to the roof.
'To the roof? '
Yeah.
I want to show you something from my point of view.
Now...
Turnaround.
Put your hands behind your back.
'Why? '
I'm going to tie your hands behind your back.
Then I'm going to blindfold you before I leave you alone.
'But...
I might fall off the roof.
Aren't you concerned about that? '
You'll learn to adjust.
If you want to survive.
And...
If you can not get up from a fall?
Maybe you were too blind not to pay attention.
Some steps some folks shouldn't take.
Listening and observation is key.
Common sense is precious.
You be surprise how many lessons one learns,
Growing up in the projects.
'But my hands are tied.
And I can't see.'
I use to hear that all the time!
~Boy! Can't you see my hands are tied?
I can't see where the next dime is coming from.
And all I get from you is lip! ~
Note:
Not too many folks I knew who grew up
in the projects became victims from the experience.
In fact, most of the folks became very successful people.
But...that was a time when expectations were high.
And many years ago when folks chose to have 'some' identity
and dignity connected to the 'self' and a growth process.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two Walls
Before you stands to great big walls.
One is shame and one is guilt.
And these two walls that you hide behind.
These are the two walls that you've built.
I know of this, these last few days.
The time I did reflect.
Another wall it was called my pride.
And it's what I would protect.
Fight tooth and nail, lay my life down.
For whose life just did I fight?
For the people I hurt by my misdeeds?
Of course not, I was right.
'They deserved it all' I truly thought.
As I masked my inner pain.
'I did was was right' my pride replied.
And then the payback came.
It didn't feel so comfortable.
When I got back what I dished.
If pain is what you serve your friends.
Then it's for pain that you wish.
Do onto others as you do yourself.
It's what our savior taught.
You handed them what they deserved.
And deserved just what you got.
The painful truth I call it now.
When you live a life of lies.
So love your brothers and sisters here.
See through your Father's eyes.
Then never again do you have to live.
The life that you once lead.
The Father says He'll find the lost.
And raise them from the dead.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Where to Bathe and What to Eat!
Some choose to mask their insecurities,
By use of excuses and insults...
To reduce feelings of insignificance.
As if this shallowness exposed,
Replaces the obvious imposed.
Those of strength are labelled arrogant.
Those of identity are often tagged nonconformists.
And on the other hand those living their lives,
On a daily basis...
Doing what they can to survive.
Could care less whose ego thrives,
Seeking to be massaged...
By another round of bravura.
Pampered in the approval of lies!
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
Those of strength are labelled arrogant.
Those of identity are often tagged nonconformists.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
And on the other hand those living their lives,
On a daily basis...
Doing what they can to survive.
Could care less whose ego thrives,
Seeking to be massaged by another round of bravura.
Pampered in the approval of lies!
Just to nibble on sweetened pretentions.
To share from a vacuous hollowness!
And at someone else's expense.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
While those who scurry about with their lifted up noses...
Seek a place to close a door anywhere.
With anyone who agrees...
They are still able to indentify their sanity!
It may not be the accepted 'sanity'!
But at least they are supportive of one another!
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
And people who are marketing decadence,
Stuff their diseased guts...
With delusions of grandeur.
OR something they hold,
To make them feel better than someone lese.
There are folks living on our streets,
Trying to figure out how to shelter themselves.
Where to bathe and what to eat!
Caring less about their bad credit.
Or who refused them a loan,
Based upon nothing in collateral shown.
Since once valued pretentions have lost their asset.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Such As a Bad Habit
I've been on my own and alone for too long,
To know a few things about patience and life!
And those who have not had that experience...
Know very little about sacrificing their likes,
To endure putting up with unwelcomed dislikes.
There has been many things done I did,
That I disliked but tolerated.
In fact I hated going through the process.
And when I had the opportunity,
To do those things enjoyed and liked...
Not a moment did I waste in indecision.
I might have been confused...
But not crazed.
People who spend time whining,
Get on my nerves.
And I am quick to split away from them.
In mid-sentence,
If I have to do it!
I am not attracted to 'whoa-is-me' people.
My father use to tell me,
How as a child...
He had his teeth pulled,
Without novocain.
He told me this frequently...
Whenever I thought he was just around,
To make my life easier.
'Come on, Daddy!
It's just ten dollars! '
I am one of the fortunate ones,
I will admit that!
And with obstacles and setbacks...
I crawled back to get myself on track!
I wasn't about to spend my life,
Traumaticized by emotional ties!
Or gossip and lies...
Folks entertain themselves to tell!
My relationship with God...
Is close.
And we communicate very well!
God is there...
And delivers!
I don't give advice,
Or recommend what others do!
I use to...
Do that,
Often!
And ended up being screwed.
Figuratively speaking!
Even though it is still just as painful.
I've learned many lessons in my life.
And the hardest one was to forgive and forget.
At times I am visited,
With an embitterness that sits.
it takes a while to get over it.
But I am not going to soon let go of my peace of mind,
Or happiness.
Because someone wants to show and display,
Every bit of their ignorance.
With attitude seeking acceptance.
And those folks,
In some places...
Travel around in cliques.
As if what they do is fashionable.
And after one obtains a degree of consciousness...
Folks like that become easier to identify.
Such as a bad habit,
One has to end to quit...
And quick!
Like a fad that has been outdated.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Approve With Each Nibble As You Taste It
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you and do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can be you but you.
And make that choice to do what you choose.
With a taking of a bite out of life to taste.
Savoring it and enjoying this too!
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
Never try to justify,
The kind of life...
You like!
Feel comfortable and live it.
What you choose for you to do,
Feel comfortable and live it.
No one but you can truly approve...
With each nibble as you taste it,
Without limits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Age Spots and Lips That Droop
Psychotic are their problems.
Big and small ones hidden over time.
They did not have to keep them wrapped up.
They chose to medicate them,
With named brand solutions.
Given in geriatric presciptions.
With doses afforded,
And hopefully generically produced.
Or over the counter cheap solutions,
To ease symptoms of a process
Nurtured in their minds.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
And I have enjoyed my life...
Knowing that when God said it was over,
That's when I would retire from it!
Not sit and rock away my time.
Of course I have been labelled crazed.
And I will never receive a gold watch,
For being that great and loyal employee.
Nor will a dime I thought was coming back to me,
In a pension plan...
Be lost or confiscated by a company drained by crooks,
Do I have to worry about.
However...
That would piss me off.
To work for the same folks for fifty or more years...
And not have a thing to show for it,
But age spots and lips that droop?
Stiffened joints and wrinkled skin?
The life from those kinds of folks,
Has been sucked from them to the marrow.
And here I am getting compliments,
For a firm behind.
And all this time,
I was working to have broad shoulders!
I have no complaints at all.
God continues to do me right!
I wake up each day with very little in my pockets.
And I feel like millions.
I go outside and see those with a few dollars...
And they would scare folks to death.
I've seen mummies in museums,
Wrapped and encased look better.
And these are the same folks,
Who worked to enjoy their retirements?
In what way...
I wonder?
Halloween only comes around once a year!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Being Able to Fit the Shoes I Wear
Being able to fit the shoes I wear,
Is not a question I raise.
It is the whining sounds of pain I hear,
From those who believed...
They were able to walk a mile in them.
And when I have them on...
They feel comfortable.
Fitting me perfectly!
With not one complaint,
From them have I ever given.
To feel free to be me wherever I traveled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Are The Pain (part 2)
You Are The Pain and
You Are The Joy (part 2)
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch, I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused, and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
When You Are Distant From Me...
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
Of That We Know...
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
It All You...
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
Love & Pain...Are You
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
People Experience
It’s so much fun to observe people
As you travel all around
They make life so interesting
A fun experience I have found
A man who knows his candy
And shares the tastes with you
A gal who enjoys watermelon
The taste so fresh and true
A lovely sales lady in Russia
A gardener in Oklahoma
A lady making Crepe Suzettes
Some of the many folks I saw
Folks that we see everyday
Just out doing their jobs
But it’s fun if we can stop
To meet and maybe hob nob
The lady atop an elephant
At a circus nearby your home
Folks who work here an there
Oh, it’s so much fun to roam
Whether you study these folks
Or just see them at a glance
It makes your life much richer
To have a people experience!
poem by Marilyn Lott
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Used to be Hero
Patricia,
Do you know? Do you remember? Things from long ago? Do you know that you used to be my hero? The person I thought I could always talk to? Do you remember when I called you mom?
I wish this letter was addressed to her; the woman I called mom; my hero. I used to think about asking dad where did you go; then I realized he was never there. So instead I realized the appropriate question for him is 'where have you been'. It was my hero who left me. It is you I must ask 'where did you go'. You used to be my hero.
Once upon a time,
You lived in Newell; Dad lived in Nisland. Matt and I we were at your house for the night. Mattie slept in our bunk in the back room. I slept on the floor in the livingroom. To raised voices I awoke. Daddy was drunk and you were fighting. You told him to leave and he grabbed Mattie. He took him out to his truck and you locked him out. To the door I ran screaming for Mattie, scared for my little brother. Not caring for my safety. You locked the door and pulled me back. Daddy soon was at the door screaming and pounding at the door for you to let him get his stuff. You ignored his rants and raves and called the police. I watched from the door as they arrived and Daddy, he put up a fight. The cops asked once, they asked twice, soon he was on the ground and put in vice. On his wrists they slapped the cuffs and dear little mattie was brought back to us. In the back of the police car Daddy went.
The End
That night you were my hero. You kept Mattie and me safe from Daddy when he was drunk. I only have one question for you now. Where did that Mommy go? My hero.....the person who was supposed to teach me everything in life. Your life seemed to fall apart in front of my eyes, but I did not see your pain. Only the pain inflicted on Mattie and me. I wish you could still be my hero, but that was lost a long time ago.
.
poem by Cathy VanDorn
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Through An Osmosisness
Unconscious assimilation,
To seduce one into conversation?
Perhaps.
But there are some with realities,
Who are distorted by facts.
And few comprehend that,
When they allow...
The comfort of their delusions,
To sit back and relax.
I have earned the right to express my identity,
With much flair if I dared.
From dawn 'til noon until midnight.
And doing it aware that I have not a care.
And if anyone expresses I do this and declare,
My arrogance to be unbearable.
And a dignity I pride...
Begins to choke with a coolness I carry.
As if I owned the air!
So be it!
If I flaunt a bit of obnoxiousness.
I've earned all of it.
The identity I pride with the dignity I don't hide.
I am not here to defend every step I've taken.
Nor those experiences life to me has personally given.
'Oh!
I can understand how you feel! '
Is that right?
What part of my life have you lived that delights?
And what hour of which day...
Have you said to yourself,
'Ignore what others say.
Keep your faith it will be okay! '
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well...
I don't have to go through that process,
To understand what others go through! '
Hmmm.
I see.
So you're one of those folks who live vicariously?
Through an osmosisness done.
And challenging all obstacles that come?
'Well,
I don't have to...
Forget it.'
That just expressed,
I can understand and accept.
As from you confessed.
There is no need to further address,
Your comprehension to suggest.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Having Not A Reason Or Purpose To Purchase
There is something comfortable I found,
In the wearing of my own shoes.
I have never wished,
I could fit those of others.
Or have I wondered,
What it would be like...
To rest my eyes,
So that I could see a perspective...
I did not myself experience.
However,
I've learned that in the sharing of events,
I am more inclined...
To listen with interest.
And not believe the shoes I wear on my own feet,
Could have been easily exchanged...
To feel someone else's pain.
And...
If that was possible,
Many would decide the shoes they pick to wear...
Would be a wasted decision.
With the wearing of them at all...
Having not a reason or purpose to purchase.
Especially,
If someone already knows how they feel when they fit.
Or where my travels may take me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Which I Do Not Know
How do I know what I know?
I've accepted faith as my reward,
For understanding.
I've accepted the experience of stumbling...
And not allow defeat,
To stop an ability I have to get back on my feet!
I've accepted humiliation to assist in my self evaluation.
I've accepted criticsms of all kinds.
I've accepted heartbreak to mend any bitterness.
With a forgiveness that God will defend...
And correct misdeeds done!
How do I know what I know?
I know I did not bleed without pain!
I know I did not recover from wounds alone.
I know I don't have all the answers!
And that was the beginning...
Of knowing something I could not debate.
It is what it is.
And could not be what it is not!
How do I know what I know?
That which I do not know...
I do not!
And I will admit,
I am prepared to learn.
'That' I choose not to stop!
I am not living my life to hide from it!
Or deny what it has to offer.
I do observe some fantasizing pain.
I am not that advanced!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You are the Pain and the joy
You are the Pain and the joy,
on the stage of life.
You are the pain, when your are distant
from me and you are the joy in my
memories of you.
You are the pain, when your touch I
can not feel and you are the joy,
as I hold you near.
You are the pain, when tears you
have caused and you are the joy, for the
laughter in my life.
You are the pain, when indifference enters
our life and you are the joy, when you
place me before others.
You are the pain, when you busy life, has
little time for me and you are the joy,
when there is just us.
You are the pain, as you seek that which
glitters in life and you are the joy,
as you are immersed, in the makings of God.
You are the pain, when angered and abrupt
and you are the joy when seeking
to make amends.
You are the pain, when anger is your
roadblock to reason and you are the
joy, when you step back and seek
a solution.
You are the pain, in you compulsives and singleness
of purpose, to be successful...and you are
a joy, when you blanket those you
care for, with love.
You are the pain, when impatience leads you down
an uncertain path and you are the joy, as you
carefully plot a pragmatic course.
You are the pain, when you listen...but
do not hear and you the joy, when
patient and understanding.
You are the pain, when other matters,
substitute our love, and you are the joy,
when we are fused together as one.
You the a pain, in our spirited
disagreements, and you are
the joy, as you say, I love you.
The lesson we know well, that in
this life, there is no joy, unless
there is pain.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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