The Root of It

This is the place of pain
the starting point where resentment builds
an angled edge where they tell me again,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hurts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."

I've chosen this path in the past
it winds and turns
downward and onward it curves
as I slink along it
doing what I'm told
believing what I'm issued
all the while, shutting down
handling the pieces and rebuilding the wall

Because,
"That wound over there,
it's deeper than yours...
that heart hearts more...
your ache is real,
but compared to that...
it's Nothing."

People wonder why
I show of shame
when my tears arise and fall
I apologize
when I get too emotional
I run away
when I sense it all crashing down and all around...

I guess you could say it's because...
that wound over there,
it's deeper than mine
that heart hurts more
yes, my ache is real
but compared to that
I'm Nothing.