Selfish Hope

Death is inviting to people like me,
afraid of life and love. You see
I've nothing to live for, nothing to give,

So what is the point in my trying to live? 

I've lived this life now for too many years.
There have been few laughs, far too many tears.
So, tell me someone, what is my life worth?
I really should have died at birth.

There must have been good times,
though God knows when; for bad times keep coming,
again and again.
So why should I live a life like mine, if
this life's not worth living, a sheer waste of time?

I've loved and I've cared for my family, my friends
but, where is my share of this love that God sends?
My life feels so worthless - death's drawing me in,
with its hope of new life, a new place to begin. 

Yet, still I keep living, and I hope, hoping too
that life might not be all bad; I must see it through.
The years ahead could be happy, be full.
Why, I think now, I hope I can feel that pull
of happiness, of love. Oh, what little there is
for someone less fortunate, worse off than this.

I've been far too selfish in thinking this way.
Let hope have its moment, I'll live for today.

Sue Tonge, crying in 1973