Friday, April 10, 2015

A poem by author and poet GARY G PELOW, THE TREMBLES.

There is no reason for it, my fear and trembling hands, my fear being up and out of control.  The trembling is pronounced and seen by many, a simple act of observation reveals this this truth, the truth of my hellish anxiety and worry, I seek release from pain and serenity in my heart along with contentment and peace.  There is no going back, back to familiar places long sinced vanished from childhood and the friends that I had are faded memories. Are they happier than me? Are their careers a success?  I  on the other hand am stuck in mental disability and poverty of the soul.  Winds are blowing today, grey and windy' enough to break trees, this makes me more afraid like a puppy that is fearful of  thunder.  I am startled by small and insignificant issues and none problems, non issues.  I am tired, I tremble, I shake, I look over my shoulder, are they following me, trying to hurt me and cause fear, my imagined enemies?  This feels like there is no hope or rest from psychosis and pain of the soul, I would rather have cancer than five decades of mental torment, yet I am still here, does that by itself create hope? We wil see as I MOVE AHEAD WHILE TREMBLING FOM FEAR.

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