DO WE HAVE A PURPOSE? by Jessica       Wondering if we do still have a purpose, with       wings clipped and flowers cut, stars not seen, love is hidden within,       lost in a vast emptiness unknown to even me.       We wonder if there is a purpose if in the darkness you can't see light.       Yet we know there is light, just can't see it, but know it does shine somewhere.       We wonder what purpose is there left for us? Tattered and mangled, unseen       or heard from deep with in. We wonder if any of us really did serve a purpose       other to escape pain. Was that the main reason? To prove a point? To show       them they couldn't hear us scream or put up a physical fight?       Yet in the darkness prevailed on us now, we wonder if the fight has a final       blow. Maybe the reason was to prove we could survive? Or could it be the       reason if the choice is to die?       Protected not, unwanted still, unheard voices that are screaming at will.       For they know what's behind door number one. A horrid fate that we know       that the dark has no sun. Forever we fight against odds that are great,       with tremendous pain and fear along with horrendous hate.       Where is the angel, or God from above? Where is the rescuer that was suppose       to love? To give us value, to show us the way, hoping against all odds       that today would be the day.       Yet now we see no hope ahead, bitter and hurt we resign to our bed. To       dream of a day that love will be real, or to not awake at all and know       death has made us still.       We carry the horror, for only two in our lives do we open and share, knowing       they give and truly they care. Is that enough when times are so hard?       Can we really push forward or ascend to the stars?       Caught between two worlds of blackness and light knowing all is raging       inside us from dawn til the night. How far can we stand this? How far       can we go? Knowing the strength is leaving and beginning to show.       The body is dying the heart is cold the mind grows weary the stride is       old. Slowing down the pace of the race we had to run, following the trail       now, we see the sun has gone.       In slumber we cry in wake we tremble only to see us in the mirror evil       We resemble. How can we beat these odd? How much fight is in us still?       How much do we have left of our tired empty and shattered will?       Afraid and sad, alone and mad, hiding from all, pretending we are glad.       No more can we show, the fake happiness we act,no longer a game for our       lives are not intact.       Humble and bare, sadness awakes, doom engulfs, tomorrow we won't wake.       It's too much to handle, too much to bear, they taught us well to hide       in our stares.       Don't cry for us now, don't shed any tears, we are safer this way no longer       any fears.