See a penny,
Pick it up,
And all day you have good luck.
Diamonds are rare,
So finding one is a surprise
All of these sayings said over and over
My experience with rarity isn't one you can draw direct parallels from
In my short time on earth
I have found many "diamonds"
But none, that I "must have"
None that are super, worth keeping.
Enter the person we shall call Emily (a pseudonym)
Emily is my friend
She has a crappy home life
Lives with her grandparents,
The type that could care less,
And has no real parents.
She witnesses her grandfather's abusive tendencies and drunken behavior,
She sees her grandmother's struggle,
As she submits and slips further into to a docile and unfeeling abyss
Emily is helpless,
And left only to view their destruction.
Emily talks about how she feels
"Broken" like an ancient music box,
"Lost" like Amelia Earhart is to the world,
Having been "bought" and "sold"
Em feels "used" like an old tube of lipstick,
She's mentally and physically drained, like the water at the end of a bath,
Desperately reaching for the white-out,
But always falling short.
In all of her pain and struggle,
How do you help? We are only so old,
With only so much we can do?
Is the evil you don't know really that much better than the evil you do?
All I do is want to run
Hit the undo button on what's been done,
Unknow what's been told,
Unfortunately, these wishes are impossible to fulfill
These truths used to eat me alive,
These truths used to eat Em alive,
And others I know,
Lost and alone,
With no true place to call home.
Eventually, Em ended her life.
With the emotions too overwhelming to bear.
For me, after a while, it turned into fuel
Fuel for hate,
Fuel for love,
Fuel for resentment,
Fuel for empathy,
Fuel for compassion.
This part of my life draws me closer to medicine,
But also pushes me away,
I always want to help,
Medicine is my diamond,
The one that pulls me through,
Hoping to one day help others like Em