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Thoroughly Taken For Granted
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Soul Poetry
Its just expected of me-
has become 'their norm'
to be completely dependant,
to the bordering of laziness.
Why such utter disregard
for one they profess to love?
Why the lack of concern
for one so already afflicted and pained?
I seem to be the only
reliable source,
the only steadfast safety net
they fall back upon.
But at what cost to me?
For a soul, so take for granted,
it only serves to shatter my heart
in jagged, aching pieces.
To think, I am nothing more,
than an means to their ends.
Merely a servant to their disorganization
and a slave to their mayhem.
It wearies me so.
It runs me down and wears me out,
till my body can no longer function
through the suffering of body and mind.
But someone must do their bidding,
lest 'our world of domesticity'
fall down around us
and they lay like helpless infants in their chaos.
Its not so much the daily routine,
which is the 'expected' of woman,
but more, the complete absence of indifference
to this diseased plight I call my existance.
Am I simply here for 'this?'
Am I un-needed but for my toiling of such occupation?
Oh, the tears which fall in succession
from such obvious and blatentness of my actual existance.
A mother loves unconditionally,
a wife loves from her very heart.
But the 'person' behind those titles,
the overwhelmed, overwrought person, aches mournfully.
To be so thoroughly taken for granted,
so profoundly disregarded
as a living, breathing, feeling soul,
pains me like no 'physical' ailment can.
They 'need me', they 'require me'
they depend upon my very being,
and through sobs, I silently and often question,
'But how can they possiblly LOVE me?'
