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Here and There

If I try to run from my
myself, where can I go?
If I try to stop thinking
about stuff, how do I do

Abuse has hammered
me with a false sense of
self that oozes with
overthink and under-do.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

Life has been an incessant
treadmill, a train without
a stop, a ticket to nowhere.

So many times, I thought
I knew what I really
wanted to do, where I was
going. Not my stop. Door
refused to open. Guess
I’m passing through again.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

When I get there, it
becomes here. Can’t be
my stop. The struggle is
unrelenting. Pain is

Where will it lead? Don’t
ask me. I’ve been asking
for years. But I know it is
just ahead. The pain of
abuse still dulls.

I can always feel the bad.
It numbs the good; can’t
tell if good has ever been
here or there.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

I’m well acquainted with
here and there. I’ve spent
most of my life here or
there. Too simple, you

Not so. All my hopes
seem to have been lost
somewhere in between.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

Here has seldom been of
my choosing. I’ve longed
to be there. But I’m here
again and again.

I don’t believe it. I’m
hanging by a thread and
I think of Tom Lehrer.

I think I laughed then.
Or I thought I should
laugh, or maybe I smiled
because I wasn’t allowed
to laugh.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

Nothing’s funny at the
moment. I’m not in New
England; so, Tom, there’s
gotta be a way to get
from here to there.

My purpose must be here,
but my heart is there.
I must learn to be content
with here, but my dreams
are there.

Here pays the mortgage.
Here puts soup you know
where. The pain is great.

I’m tired of here because
it has always fallen short
of there and the pain won’t
go away.

Nor necessarily true.
Just what I think.

I’ve wanted so much for
us to go there; Alas, I
awakened here,

It seems that there is very
little time for dreams to
come true.

Not necessarily true.
Just what I think.

I looked up to watch the
wind blow. That reminded
me. I’m breathing. Good
sign. And I remembered
the God of here and there.

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

2 replies

  1. We have a desire to be there, our sanctuary from all harm. When we get there we find it different, but not for long. Whether we are here or there is irrelevant. God’s love for us never changes because of our social standing, job title, or geographic location. He will always be there to guide and protect us, and give us courage to fulfill our destiny. The God of here and there are one.


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