A Wish to Be The Healer

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Here I sit, and lamenate,
about the things of my past.
I dwell upon, relive through,
and merely clear my mind.

Alas, but then, I see my friends,
whose pains and torments surface,
and give pale light unto mine.

It is then I hope, I wish,
that despite my own minor hurts,
that I could unburden their greater ones,
and take their pain as my own.

Yet sadly, I have not the power to do so,
My soul is willing, yet my body is unable,
and so I watch over my friends with heavy heart,
able to do nothing, but try comfort with my presence.

And how it saddens me, to see them hurt so,
to see their hearts ache, their souls shattered,
to wish to be the healer, and be able not,
for I'd be willing to go through a thousand hells,
if this were possible, so would I do for my loved ones.

To see them hurt, hurts me as well,
to see one who was once so joyous and carefree,
shadowed by emotional wounds severe,
My friends, I am saddened...
that the only things I can give unto you are my words,
my own compassion and feelings,
my own listening ears, my heart and my soul,
and this poem, for which I dedicate to you,
and fear this is all not nearly enough.

I apologize for this, my friends, my loved ones,

I care, perhaps more than I should. But, even if I
could control such caring, I would not want to.

A wish is what I have,
A wish to be the healer,
and to remove all our wounds which life hath dealt us.

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Dedicated with much love and care to my friends,
who, I feel, have been through so much.