Ask for Nothing
I often ask for nothing,
Yet always hear advice
From symphonies of human beings,
Striving to be nice.
They poke and prod my flaws.
My soul, it lays exposed
Through broken chains of aches and pains,
Through doors that should be closed.
These people—they tell me
The things I need in life,
And so it seems my darkest dream
Is now Confession’s wife
For the words that they call wisdom
Are words I cannot not hear.
Although of bliss and happiness,
These are the words I fear.
But still they say to smile—
To smile a little more,
To part my lips when my soul dips,
But I then ask, “What for?”
Why lie to the world?
Is that not a sin?
Why should I try to falsify
A joy not found within?
So next they say to cry—
To release the pain,
But through the years so many tears
Have fallen like the rain.
My heart, of course, it aches.
My body has grown weary.
My being, dying; my spirit, flying;
But my eyes are not teary.
So then they say to scream—
To let my voice be heard,
But the words I say, they never stay.
Not even the mocking birds
Will hear my cry—No!
No one hears my voice.
And every day they run away,
Leaving me with no choice
But to stop and listen—
To listen to the wind,
To close my eyes and realize
I hate playing pretend,
So I often ask for nothing,
Yet still I beg and plead.
I often desire a needed ceasefire
For I know what I need.
No, it is not advice.
I do not need to cry,
Not to smile, to scream, to hope, or to dream.
I only need to try
To forge my pathway to relief,
To say that I am free.
To find some peace through my release,
I simply need to be.
