Blissful Misery

I wrote this poem for a contest on the site Poetry Nation. I actually received a letter stating I made it in the semi-finals and that my poem would be marketed in a book the publishing company Eber and Wein put out every year. The book supposed to be a compilation of all the semi-finalists poems. I don't know if this is true, I didn't know much about Poetry Nation and it has been quite a while since I have heard anything else. I never heard who won or if the book is published now in order to buy. I did visit the site and try to find out, but couldn't find the information. So, if anyone sees this poem under another name other than my name Karen Smith, please let me know.

I hope you like this poem, it's one of the first poems I ever wrote. :)

Oh, but I've always known

what it feels like not to be loved.

It’s a curse of suffering that

comes from something unseen.

It bestows on me such insecurities.

The air from my lungs sometimes

ceases to fill, and I’m smothering like

a bee who at this moment stung its

prey; fluttering, gasping, and just

wasting away. Jesus himself has

no mercy on me, can’t you see, his

intent to make me suffer just as he.

I look forward by lifting my head,

holding it up, but still feeling dread.

To wake in this world is like the

living dead...

though, a part of me longs to be

alive, as alive as a beautiful bird that

soars in the blue sky.However, I only

seem to be the strings...

of a sadly played violin, cut and

tortured under its battering bow

gently weeping with every screeching

stroke.

Although many lessons learned

are my gift, I suppose. It’s the scars

of my life that still whittle my bones.

Am I wise beyond my days...

so it seems, yet I would give wisdom

up for one true love scene...