The Balm

Others all around me, passing by me, all seem to have it.
I ask to borrow it, most are willing to lend.
Just when I thought I have it, it slips through my fingers like water

No two days are the same.
I am never the same person

Tears won’t help;
Fighting does no good
It is always there like a sleeping giant.
Any little noise or trouble sets it off

Drained and annoyed
I resent the world for my being here
No purpose, no point.
This is pure misery. Why me?

But there is a balm.
Like the one in gilead.
It works like a charm

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