The Little Things
The little things are driving me mad
While I feel guilty complaining
when the world is filled with pain
so much greater than any I endure
I cannot stop myself from wishing
it would all just stop
I can’t help but wonder
if one devastating blow
might be easier to recover from
than the constant barrage of
minor aches and pains to the body and soul
Annihilation on a large stage
knocks us to our core
bleeding bitter tears into the earth
but like watering a garden
we are often born anew
and stronger from what we’ve learned
The little things are different
They wear us down slowly
like a creek trickling down a mountain
smoothes its stones over time
or the leaky faucet breaking the silence
of the night with the monotony its
plop
plop
plop
until we think we will lose our mind
If only someone would turn off the faucet
if only for a little while
I need respite from the little things
to rejuvenate what’s been worn away
but there is nowhere to hide
from the tide crashing over me
~Elise Skidmore ©2017
