I would have thought
just as time heals all wounds
that Today I’d be better
Today I’d be prepared
to go about my life in an ordinary fashion
As if Today
Were a somewhat ordinary day.
This morning, as everything went wrong
I trudged on – chip firmly on my shoulder
like it’s glued there.
Today as I bitched and moaned
on the ride in to work
and continued after I got here
I began to know
that Today will never be
an ordinary day.
It can never be what it once was to any of us.
And as I grumble and complain
About the most trivial of life’s ordinary woes
There are those who sit silently
Mourning a loss that I personally do not know.
Real, tangible, still-a-bleeding-wound loss.
And I am ashamed
to complain about the tiny hurts I carry
as if the mother of all burdens is mine.
And perspective slices open the bandage on my eyes
And I see
That I know nothing of mourning.