Of all the people, in all the world,
how did you come to pick me?
Why do I deserve
these special maladies?
Where did I go wrong?
How can I take it back?
Is there something I could do
to make up for what I lack?
Because it’s too much—
these illnesses, these defeats.
Why, God, oh why
did you give them all to me?
Is there something I should know about
that I clearly don’t?
Or something I should try
that all others won’t?
I can’t see where this goes
or how to pass this test.
My brain is on fire
and my soul wants to rest.
But I don’t want to leave.
I’m not ready for that.
I just know I can’t stay
in the place where I’m at.
So, I guess I’ll get up,
keep putting in the work,
and hope tomorrow comes
with a little less hurt.
Without any answers.
Without a clear path.
Absorbing the blows,
enduring the wrath.
If I’m being honest,
this is all starting to feel
like a game you designed
to show that you’re real.
Is that what this is?
A test of my will?
To see if I’m able
to swallow this pill?
So I can be someone
who made it through,
able to go on,
and prove what you can do?
No? Maybe? Okay, fine,
I’ll still give You a shot,
and we’ll just have to find out
if you’re real or not.
— ❧ —
Poetry Corner
This poem came from a place I found myself in several years back. We have these moments—these tests in our lives that make us wonder if we’re ever going to find a way through. Without getting too personal, I was at a point with my health where doctors had given up trying to figure out what was wrong. Sent home from the ER, I spent a very long night on the floor with unbelievable pain, having a reluctant conversation. It was a good start.
For more poems, you can find a collection of them at In Verse.