not one little bit.
I see the pain. I see the poverty. I see the needs.
I'm not blind. Even the blind could see it, hear it, smell it, touch it.
But
I'm not doing anything.
I hate it. If I am being honest with you
and
with
me.
I
hate
it!
I despise it. I don't want it. I don't want this life living here.
I want to go home.
To a place where I felt that my gifts were being
used.
To a place where my living room was filled with lost souls, searching, reaching, receiving, laughing, and being loved.
I'm trapped.
There is no way out. Just days. Days that are
lonely and bleed into the next.
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