Tell Me
by Lola Mart
Lord, there are times when I am tired of living.
Living without hope is like living without oxygen.
To live without a dream is like living a nightmare,
The sadness of my soul is the remains of a dull existence.
The cry of my spirit is like a lament in the high skies
where nobody seems to care and nobody gets high enough
to reach the unreachable stars and see your smile so divine.
Why am I here?
What is the purpose of my life? Tell me Lord, tell me!!!
Is it my destiny to save the world
or is it the world's destiny to save me?
Save me from my own insanity!
Like Don Quixote I go out there
searching my own quest and dreaming the impossible dream.
There I go again seeking and searching the truth one more time.
Tell me my Lord where my heart lies? Does it belong to you?
Does it belong to who?
I conquer new roads where I find new answers.
Lord, tell me, do I really exist?
Where you there when I was born?
Did you shed a tear when I came out of my mother's womb?
Where you joyful when you first saw my bright eyes?
Did you smile thinking that I came here with a purpose?
Tell me Lord, am I really who I am?
If not, could we start all over again?
Why, if you are in my life, do I beg others for remains of love?
I beg others for little pieces of their hearts.
When they turn around and slap me on the face,
saying you are just needed and not wanted,
what should I do then?
Tell me Lord …
I can't live this way
anymore!!!
volume 10(5)
This poem is copyright © 2006,
Lola Mart, all rights reserved.
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