End It

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Internal Dialog...or argument.

Submitted: September 25, 2006

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Submitted: September 25, 2006

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Why don't you just end it all?

What do you mean?

You're not happy.

Yes I am.

No you're not.  You're always sick.

Not always.

Nearly enough. You're never happy.

Yes I am.

No you're not.  You hate your job.

No I don't.

Yes you do.  Wouldn't you rather be home?

Well, yeah.

To not have to work.  A slave in a sense.

I don't think I'm a slave.

Sure you don't.  You'd rather be at work then at home.

Well, no.

Exactly.  You're tired of having to be there.  

Yeah.

Tired of having to bring home the bacon.

It would be nice not to.

Tired of having to be strong.
Tired of having to put up with idiots everywhere you go.
Tired of not being able to afford what you want or need.
Tired of arguing with people.
Tired of doctors.  
Tired of traffic.
Tired of corporations.
Tired of commercials.
Tired of your stomach problems.
Tired of everything.
Just give in.  You don't need to be tired anymore.
It's easy.  Just end it.

You're forgetting some things.

Like what?

My wife.
My child.

Yeah, so?  How much sleep have you lost?  
How much stress do they cause?

How much love do they provide?
How many smiles have they given?
The warmth.
The compassion.
They make all of the above worth it.

Do they?

They do.


© Copyright 2018 Ivan E. Moore II. All rights reserved.

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