How hard it is not to be strong,
how hard it is to be alone,
and to be old, yet to be young!
and to be weak, and powerless,
alone, with no one anywhere,
dissatisfied, and desperate.
And trudge bleak highways endlessly,
and to be trampled in the mud,
with no star shining in the sky.
Without your star of destiny
to play its twinklings on your crib
with rainbows and false prophecies.
– Oh God, oh God, remember all
the glittering fair promises
with which you have afflicted me.
Oh God, oh God, remember all
the great loves, the great victories,
the wreaths of laurel and the gifts.
And know you have a son who walks
the weary valleys of the world
among sharp thorns, and rocks and stones,
through unkindness and unconcern,
with his feet bloodied under him,
and with his heart an open wound.