As the smoke clears, the picture shines through, still not incredibly clear but at least I’m not stuck with my head in a dark cloud of confusion and bleakness. Tragedies are what great poetry is based on, isn’t it. So much you can learn and grow from an experience. But for some reason I feel it’s useless. I know tragedy and pain without having to go through it. I’ve been careful of my lessons in life and more careful not to repeat the mistakes of my naïve inner child. However, the energy of the world is to continually push me down and hold me back and continue to “teach me lessons” – but I’m beginning to become angry. I’m starting to feel this is nothing more than a sick joke and the world is laughing at me. How many tragedies must I suffer, how many lessons can I learn. And when will you give it up. Stop torturing me, my patience is running thin and I can’t bare another set back, let down, hurtful time, or feelings of somber. I’m not strong anymore. I pray and I pray and believe in my deepest self that I’m a decent person and I’ve paid my dues, now can you admit that enough is enough. Let me go, set me free, let me be, at peace and at ease and not just counting the crucibles that another suffering moment awaits me.