From “When Only the Love Remains” by Emily Margaret Stuparyk

What do you know of my pain,
You, who injured your leg;
What do you know of real pain,
For you, I’ve only disdain.

Don’t tell me of your illness,
Your leg will heal in a month.
Don’t bore me with your distress,
Sleep it off, you’ll recover, no duress.

I don’t want to hear about your problems,
You, whose car won’t start;
Enough about your troubles,
The rain will help our struggles.

I don’t have to handle your pain,
You don’t even know its meaning;
The pain of losing a loved one,
Your sorrow is never done.

My pain has lasted months,
I live, but one day at a time;
Sometimes, a moment is all I can carry,
My body has grown continuously weary.