Tuesday, May 18, 2010


Written by: Paige Tadpole (Bullington at the time)
Date: October 1, 2006
Time: 8:10 AM

(This is something I wrote shortly after my Mama died. This is what my heart was feeling and trying to express at the time. It is entitled- Why.)


Why is a question that is so frequently asked, but the question that seems to go unanswered. So many people, in their pain, fight through the unknowing darkness around themselves; trying to catch a glimpse of the light. When failing to find the truth their hearts become bitter and begin to die.

Why, oh why must this pain come? Why doesn't it ever leave? Why is it always there, torturing me? Why is my heart so cold? It is the bitterness that courses through me, eating away at me, destroying me. Why, oh why must this pain come?

Why can't we hide from the pain, push it away, never to feel it again? Never to be touched by it's icy grip. We try to hide, but we can never escape. The pain always finds me and exposes me. But I hide the pain from others, put on a mask of happiness. But I am still lifeless, dull, in pain, and no one ever sees.


Andrea Tadpole said...


I really like the way you described your feelings. Excellent poem.