Tombstone

I saw her name on the tombstone today.
A story it told of her life's struggles.
A son she begot but died before her,
World of sorrows she must have felt.
Witnessed the two great wars, she saw the world change.
Was she happier than we are today?
A life of purpose it must have been,
Of surviving against all odds.
Long life lived she, faith must have caught on.
A century of changes, an ocean of experiences, how much does one see in this lifetime?
Another tombstone caught my eye,
A soldier was laid to rest.
Proud even in his death,
'killed in action' was he.
Is this what you call,
Living a meaningful life?

Living everyday

Dressing up is an effort
Stepping out of the door is an effort
Looking after myself is an effort.
He says, "you don't love yourself" "you don't love me"
I stay quiet but inside I think it could be true.
I like the numbness. Like not feeling any thing. Food is comforting, comfort eating is what it is.
Sometimes you are just tired of fighting.
Fighting to be a better version of yourself everyday.
When you see people around you striding away.
Forward and onwards they march.
You are standing still, like a mute spectator.
Just dreaming of a better future.
Awaiting the good things to come.
Why do I always see the blackness around me?
Darkness is all I see.
Thin air, nothing to look at for me.
Even someone reading this would give me hope.
Living light after light,
Hope keeps me alive.