Wounded and broken I hobble through life…there’s many things that I would like to share, but who will honestly listen to the handicapped?
I have nothing to offer.
I don’t have the wealth to keep people around. I’m a cripple, wounded by past relationships, broken from abuse and a lack of support.
No one wants to listen to me, I’m not important or attractive in my bed of pain. What can I give through my tears and heartache?
I hobble day after day trying to recover from the many lies, and the broken promises, in a relationship that I believed in.
I shiver in emotional distrust from the cold blooded reality of divorce, the heartless aftermath of drug addiction, and the ruthless hold of poverty.
I would love to be free!
I would love the liberty in having someone special to ease my burdens, or to listen to my heart about my hopes and dreams, and to care enough about me to offer advice about my aspirations and to encourage me with love and understanding.
Each day is hard to deal with, it’s difficult to meet people when everybody reminds you of the hurt and pain that you’ve went through.
Its hard to trust when you’ve been beaten down by domestic violence and crippled emotionally by infidelity.
Its hard to open up your heart when people seem to only care about themselves and what they can get from you.
I don’ t ask for much, I just want to communicate how I really feel.
But the question is ,who cares about what I have to say?
I’m just a voice that people have heard time and time again.
The unemployment office have heard my voice, the welfare office have heard my voice, the police station have heard my voice, the hospital have heard my voice, the pastor have heard my voice, the penitentiary have heard my voice, down on my knees God has heard my voice.
Many nights I have cried out for compassion, yet, my cries of agony and need has fallen upon deaf ears.
I was raised to believe in community, to believe in the common courtesy and the goodwill of your fellow man. I was taught to have love for thy neighbor.
It seems like everything that my parents told me was right, people ignore today. Most of my life I was there for other people, and now in my time of need I’m alone in my wheelchair of incarceration, in my wheelchair of being discriminated upon by the horrors of racism and bigotry.
The streets is unforgiving and unmerciful. I’m handicapped by lack of opportunity.
Trying to survive many nights and early mornings, I hustled by panhandling, I hustled aluminum, plasma centers, stripper joints, boosting stores, selling pot, pills, and dummy sacks…
I’m wounded by my own character.
I’m Leary of everybody!
The long arms of predators and pistol toting gang bangers threaten every dollar that’s made with the possibility of robbery and death.
I’m tired..but who cares about the voice of the cripple?
Immobilized by environmental conditions of dilapidated houses and projects.
Immobilized by excess child support, and reposessed vehicles.
In Urban cities, and rural areas across America, the voice of the cripple reminds us all, that poverty, pain, dysfunctional families, the homeless, and the unloved doesn’t discriminate.
From the Whitehouse to the protects, from Hollywood to the unemployment line, who can say I have need of no one?
The rich and famous are overdosing on drugs and committing suicide.
Although these same people were surrounded by fans and worshippers, looking for money,autographs, and how to gain favor and make it to the top.
How many heard their cry? There’s always signs and actions that will draw us to the voice of the cripple. If we care enough to listen to anything besides our own selfish needs and desires from the bedroom to the bank account .
A wise prophet by the name of Jesus once said: Only the sick need a physician.
If a person is in denial about their own issues, he or she can never get the help they need to become better people.
The beautiful hope of humanity is that through the gift of love we have the power to be one another’s keeper, by feeding the poor, educating the uneducated, adopting children, helping the elderly, healing the sick, spreading the message of recovery, and being lawful citizens toward one another.
We all have issues, flaws, and shortcomings. Yet, we also have the power to be one another’s physician through wise counsel, love and support.
In a world of violence, hate, crime, racism, sexism, and many addictions, as a people, in the intricate fiber of diversity that weaves the fabric of who we are as a nation we all need to be heard.
The voice of the cripple cries out all around us, the only question is do you care enough about your fellow man to respond and make the world a better place?
Stacey Gordon
DOC #r151-919
