Thoroughly Taken For Granted

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?'

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