Thurman P. Woodfork
Awarded: August 1, 2006I’m weary; I seek a resting place.
I’m lonely; I need companionship.
My heart is sore; I require understanding.
My memories plague me; I must find peace.
But I don’t know how to ask for these things.
Have I come to the right place?
Will my long journey finally end here?
Have I found what I’ve sought for so long,
Or is this another lovely, empty promise?
A theater with enticing, vacuous dialogue:
“I’m not an empathic person, but I play one here.”
I cannot bear more disappointment;
Can’t you feel my anguish?
One more hollow phrase will pierce me like a lance –
I will drown in this swirl of counterfeit caring
Like a helpless babe caught in a raging whirlpool.
Damn you; stop talking and listen!
Sense what I leave unexpressed.
You claim to have walked this path before me;
Can’t you see through the bravado in my words?
Where is your insight and compassion?
I throb with sub-vocal cries for help;
I pulse with the need to reach out for support.
My eyes beseech even as I turn away…
But you do not discern my wordless plea…
You neither see nor hear the inner me.
I must move on.
©Copyright July 15, 2006 by Thurman P. Woodfork
Author’s Note: Dedicated to the Veterans Administration