The Angels Were Generous

Pillar of Strength

Among my circle I am the one looked to
for strength and hope and sympathy.
It’s not a role that upon myself I took,
but rather, one given by others to me.

I am a pillar of friendship and love
and freely do I share it, this is true.
But carefully, my own emotions were gloved,
leather-bound and hidden from view.

Months later, years after the fact,
I turned inward to look, for I need
some of the strength I was seeming to lack,
just a hint, just a germ, just a seed.

The pillar had become the emptiest of shells.
Nothing but powder and dust did I find.
This was the place the love chose to dwell?
The thought wrenched and tore at my mind.

All that I gave had left me for now,
the pillar was soon falling apart.
I knew I must find it again, but how?
‘Twas overwhelming to soul and to heart.

Same as a tin man, I weep and I rust
as the tears make it harder to move.
Like emotions, kept hidden from view,
they turn inward and dampen the dust.

Inside the hollowness the dust that is left
mingles with whimpers,
they fade and they blue and they mix and they blend.
Instead of bereft I feel inside me the change that occurs.

The mixture within has created a clay,
remodeling that pillar new and strong.
The powder and tears have shown a new way,
to the one who has hidden so long.