Why Were My Hopes So Hidden?
Why were my hopes so hidden?
They seemed a quite normal kind.
I just wanted children and family,
And watching our lives unwind.
Something has happened to me,
What it was I just cannot say,
How it happened or who did what,
That hurt me on that day.
At first, it was acceptable,
I felt love, and they gave me care,
In time, I guess I realized,
I wasn’t going anywhere.
And then, the days grew longer,
My visitor list grew short,
My diary held blank pages,
And that is my report.
It’s also condemnation,
For how my life has drained,
Out through the vacant window,
Of my vista now constrained.
I could have gone to parties,
With many a birthday chance,
I would have smiled at a party,
Even though I couldn’t dance.
So why were my hopes so painful,
To those who had starred in my dreams?
I’ve shrunken to life in a bird-cage,
Even that’s not enough for some schemes.
They debate about life that’s worth living,
But they don’t put their own lives in hock.
I’m inclined to believe that a just review,
Would have placed most of them into shock.
For the scales of true justice will measure,
The worth of those judging me,
And the hopes that I had that I treasure,
Far outshine any others I see.
NicknamedBob . . . . . December 10, 2006