What's The Point?

By John
(5th March 2009 2.30am)

I lay here in bed after all these years in pain… with tears… traumatised. Some of the pain is needless. Thirty eight years of Abuse. Its not stopped yet. “What’s the point?” You have to ask. When you are at an end or seem to be. But the question isn’t asked. It like the flashbacks or memories through them. Visits YOU. “What’s the point?” You battle with it. Often you cant seem to tell the truth and answer it. Its like sometimes you lie to get by. Maybe if things improve you can ask “What’s the point?” and you can have an answer. And on you go forward. But I’ve been there too. “What’s the point?” Tears welling up in my eyes I fear I know the answer. So much pain. So alone. So much victimized. So much wrong. “What’s the point?” An answer is in me. I know its not good. Its like a silent answer. One that wells up more tears. But the denial of the answer right now keeps me safe. Can so many for so long be all wrong? Hey another question. Reasoning the unreasonable. Can I be so wrong to believe they Abuse me and it is wrong? Why do so many not act when they know? They are so absent. They believe those that hurt us. The lies. The miss truths. The half truths. “What’s the point?” I keep fighting it and them. But where does it get me? Back here again. “What’s the point?” But here’s another question I ask and I know the answer too. What else is there? If I don’t? OH it could be worse. Its all hard to live with exist with. But if I don’t fight it and them. How could I live with it? I couldn’t. “What’s the point?” NO. Fight it with “What else is there?” That’s the point. I hope it keeps you safe too.

To see some artwork by John click here.
To read some poems by John click here.