A Friend In Pain

A Friend In Pain short poem

Photo by Squeezyboy

I don’t want to lie and say
that i can feel or know your pain.
Or tell you that there’s a rainbow…
after a painful heavy rain.

But i can say that many times..
I to thought of my demise.
Thought of cutting all my loses.
Slash my veins so I could die.

I always felt i was alone
Alone crying  – going insane.
No one ever heard my cries.
No one ever felt my pain

So I hoped and always prayed
That one day I’d shut my eyes
And fall into eternal slumber.
And to meet my own demise.

But as i laid and as i pondered
Perplexed i always seemed to be.
As my hand i held much tighter
The blade i thought would soon free me.

For all my faults everyone I blamed
I always blamed everyone but me.
But then one day as pointed angrily
I so noticed that in my hand.
There were 3 fingers – pointing back at me.

And so blinded by my hatred.
My own self pitty i did not see.
Yet My pain has never ended..
It Still lives inside me.

Time still can never mend
The pain that grows in me.
I ways try to fight it
Never again I Hope and pray.
That the pain will gain control of me.

But i hope you too shall realize
Hope in your mind n heart you too shall see.
That it’s selfish to give up in life.
All you’ll do is hurt the ones you love.
All You’ll do is hurt your family!

So Stay strong and don’t give up.
Someone out there will always love you.
So Don’t quit and let them down.
Because Those that truly love you.
For you —  They will always be around.

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Rick Zerimar Barba

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"I am an artist by heart..a businessman by necessity"I grew up in South Central Los Angeles on the Florence/Firestone district. Which at one time in the 90's was considered a war zone by U.N. Standards for having over 500 homicides in the district. I lived under Marshall Law during the L.A. Riots and witnessed anarchy.Raised by a single mother with a second grade education. And Sadly, at the age of 38 I've attended more funerals than weddings.Yes! I lived in poverty... My father was an alcholic and would hit my mom. Mostly all of my childhood friends got into gangs and most are in prison for life. I've had guns pointed at me...first time was at the age of 13. I've e been shot at on 3 occasions in my teens by gang members...i never "gang banged"....my mother i am sure wouldn't have approved..lol.Also at the age of 14, I witnessed death one night when  man was gunned down 100 yards from me. I ran to him and saw him faced down...dying. Then became a suspect that night when a lady said i was the one that shot him.i guess because i was the first one there...and mistreated by the Sherrifs. But luckily, the deceased man's friend came back..he had a large bullet hole in his belly and told the deputies that it wasn't me.But sadly that wasn't the last time I witnessed death. Countless more I came sadly came to see.But I'm sure others, from the ghetto, the hood, or our soldiers in war have seen much worse.I don't share this for pitty. But to say that these experiences made me value family...not money. Value life...shocking how easy a life can be taken away. So I focused on my art, my writting and education to get away. I am the only person from all my friends that has a degree. And they all truly look up at me. But poverty, violence and the death I'd seen... Made me realize how important that it was for me. To better... to be stronger. And to achieve my dream!I am now a Financial Advisor for a top firm. But still and forever through my art..my paintings..my poetry..my songs...i will continue to express or share these experiences...these emotions."An Artist by heart. A businessman by necessity!."I am going to write a poem in the next few days about this story that i just shared.I think i will title it:"There were three pointed back at me!"Rick
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