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

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