A poem written by Michael J. Rietscha

This Woman

Who is this woman?

Yet the same hand that provides me with these things also

My mind spins, my life is forever more
A whirlwind; a tornado is all that is in my head.


I have never been able to express myself,
My emotions are restrained by strong iron chains,
my heart bleeds in a closed tightly lock box.

My tears flow inside of me like that of the tallest waterfall
hidden in a deep thick forest.

But does she care?

My feelings, my emotions, my pain
Do not mean anything to her.

In her eyes these things are stupid.

In her eyes everything I do is stupid or wrong.

This woman gave me birth and nothing but pain.

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© 2016 Mental Health Association of Northwestern PA