September 22, 1978
At times I feel they're all against
me, and somehow they all have fenced
me into where they will not let me out.
I've called and asked them each by name
but yet their answers' still the same;
they will not tell me what its all about.
One day they're kind — the next they're not;
the next they look as if they've plot-
ted something wierd and evil for my soul.
They do not cease to hound nor haunt
me even when I'm where they want
me; still I do not understand their goal.
They borrow — yet they don't return,
and when they see me they will turn
their heads and look the other way instead.
I see them whisper as I near
them. Even though I do not hear
them, from their eyes I know what has been said.
I often feel their eyes upon
me, waiting for a chance to con
me out of anything that they can get.
I often dine and walk alone.
Their distance leaves me on my own;
they pass me just as if we've never met.
And this, at times, will get me down;
I smile outside — yet inside frown
so noone knows just how I really feel.
Some days are good and some are bad.
When some have ended I am glad
for I can then go into the unreal.
But, you, o Lord,