In My Weakest Hour

In my weakest hour, I stand alone,
not wanting to look back, unable to go on.
A whirlpool of feelings, drowning my soul,
sorrow shrouds my mind; guilt takes its toll.

Through a plethora of shoulds and ought-to-have-done’s
despair blinds me like a thousand suns.
But wait -- there’s a melody amidst the drone,
Through all I may suffer, I’m never alone.

There’s always an arm to lean on, to rest,
surviving the worst, enjoying the best.
This time is not easy, as I’m well aware,
But I have the past’s mem’ries and stories to share.

I remember the good times, the laughter, the smiles,
though they bring tears to my eyes and will for a while,
I’ll treasure them dearly; they’ll always be mine.
The love I now feel will help me get by . . .
and knowing all this, I think I’ll go have a good cry.

Copyright ©1991 by Sheyna D. Galyan