My friend: The pain of sadness

Sadness my old friend,
visits me from time to time. A friend is trustworthy and honest. This friend never deceives with his pain of truth.

A kindred spirit, a friend; I let him in from the cold.

He visits me from time to time and tells me stories of my past;

I listen.

I remember…

The pain burns steadily under my chest, at my heart; A dull, blunt pain, a lingering browning mark; a slow moving, spreading pain. The pain of sadness.

I’m unable to move; I listen still, with an intensity; my legs pain bitterly now of apparent numb. He notices, but he cannot help me; he stops and waits. He understands; the pain underneath me; He needs to continue with his story.

I am a child. On a carpet, looking up at him, listening to the old, calm story teller. I am a prisoner; I am free; I am all three.

Then he leaves me;

I am alone again. Still listening but no ones there.