Solace

I look towards her and she starts to cry.           Tears run down her cheeks  and vanish.       She turns to me for solace, I can offer her none,           I say, pray to the Lord, and have patience.         I know now she has her doubts, but she waits.       She has been taught to believe, she has patience.       For she sees no way other, so she prays silently,           She hopes for miracles, but there are none.         I realize she is susceptible, so unsure of herself.             Should I take advantage, I now ponder.       I could shatter her beliefs, show her the truth,             My truth. The way I look at life. My way.           I am not what it may seem, just a realist.             I see life as life should be, not as is.     For I feel truth has been distorted, to suit people,         And I have found it, discovered the right path.       But then who am I, to bring about this irreverence?           I am just a mere being amongst hundreds,           Why should I be the one chosen to lead,     To disclose to people when they prefer blindness.         So I turn away from her, and she stares on.     She feels I too have left her in her time of need,           She is left speechless, only her eyes speak,             Alone and lonely, the way of this world.             I feel I have let her down very badly.     But I did what I thought best, I am no prophet.     If I was to create this world it would be unlike,     But then there'd be no world, and where would I be? Written September 30th, 1992 © on Oct 15 2001 05:44 AM PST   0 • 12