TO EASE SORROW

Sometimes, the sun’s behind the clouds,

And days in darkness see,

It’s then, I suck my thumb and hide,

When sorrow pours on me.

I spend the days cursing the stones,

Those in my life are thrown,

And fail to see my own as pebbles,

Next to many that are known.

The days pass by... and I inward,

No other face I see,

And endlessly, I pick the thorns,

Upon my pity tree.

I never see the rose attached,

But feel the thorns that prick.

I seldom see that others hold,

No rose upon their stick.

When to another’s pain I’m blind,

Then, to me, mine adheres.

But when I reach a caring hand…

I watch mine disappear.