There is pain in my heart for another.
I cannot comfort her,
I cannot be with her,
I want to share her pain,
ease her suffering,
show her I care.

Why must it be so hard?
Why should it happen to start with?
The unanswerable questions
ring out to the stars,
and only silence replies
with it's smooth sound.

I scream with anguish,
and the pain of helplessness.
"There must be something I can do, mustn there?"
The whimpered query
hangs in the air,
"please?".

But only silence and time remain,
one a comforter,
the other, a healer.
So why am I not comforted,
or healed of my pain,
and only misery remains?

Photo By hdtvnomad from deviantart
Poem By Malcolm Coleman from netpoets
Unknown "Babetastic" Neglected - 16 years, 3 days ago