Silent Sufferer

I've been shot down again.

I've been pushed, shoved,

And tripped.

Derogative words

Are often aimed

At me.

Like anyone cares.

I have friends,

That stab me in the back.

I have friends that care,

About using me as a

Footstool,

To their glory.

But all I get in return is

A dusty shirt.

But all that won't drag

Me down.

Or at least

No one could tell the difference,

'Cause I don't express

My feelings.

The only thing

That sheds tears

Is my soul.

I am

A silent sufferer.

I do not cry

Out in anguish.

But the only thing

Visible,

Is a small

Contraction in the chest.

The only thing that supports

Me,

Is a rail

Called the

Past.

I use what I learned

In the

Past,

To hold me.

Because of this

I look to no one

To share

My feelings.

I suffer silently.

You may ask

If there is something

Wrong.

I may reply,

No,

But that is a lie.

Truthfully I'm

Torn inside.

No lights seem

To brighten a path.

I am lost in the

Darkness.

I am afraid

That you will

Make me stumble

Off my chosen

Path.

So I grieve my losses.

Give into pain,

And cry...

Silently,

For, I am

A silent sufferer.