Sunday, September 04, 2005

Tears of hope run down my skin.

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I'm sick tonight. Swollen glands, sore throat, achey body. In this quiet house, I want to scream and scream. I have a little bug, only enough to make me slow down to feel bad for a few days and I can only think of him. I can't even imagine his misery. It's not fair.

I want to rage against the world. We shouldn't have cancer in 2005. Billions upon billions of dollars spent on the search for a cure and still we are no closer than we ever were. Still my beautiful friend vomits every few minutes and pulls his hair out in handfuls.

It's all a game. Someone raises the money, someone takes the money and someone is not doing with it what should be done.

What if? What if the cure is a root or an herb or something so simple that we've been cutting it down year after year until there is almost no more of it? What if they know it's name, but because it's something so readily available that it cannot be patented... and no patent means no more money and no more money means no more life of excess for the white coats.

I hate what passes for medicine in our culture.

Every time I think of him, which is every few minutes of every day, I want to do something that is valuable and important and worthy. I can't just be me. I can't just sit here, waiting.

I wish I were a Van Gogh. I'd paint a spectacular picture so full of power and emotion that anyone who saw it would understand who he is and how wrong it is for him to be sick. The paint would be dark and thick and even standing near it would move the world to action. It would change things.

I wish I were a Hemingway. I'd paint him with beautiful words that would make the world cry and no one would be able to put it down. It would change things.

I wish I were a Josh Groban. I'd paint him with a soulful voice and my words would send waves of emotion through anyone who heard them.

I can't do anything. Not one damn thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Remember When It Rained"

Wash away the thoughts inside
That keep my mind away from you.
No more love and no more pride
And thoughts are all I have to do.

Remember when it rained.
Felt the ground and looked up high
And called your name.
Remember when it rained.
In the darkness I remain.

Tears of hope run down my skin.
Tears for you that will not dry.
They magnify the one within
And let the outside slowly die.

Remember when it rained.
I felt the ground and looked up high
And called your name.
Remember when it rained.
In the water I remain
Running down
Running down
Running down
Running down
Running down
Running down
Running down

Copyright © 2004-2005, Sherri Bailey
This blog may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the author.

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