At Long Last Poem by Eric Maffettone

I thought I could love, save, help, and heal.
Though it seems futile, pain is all I feel.
I try again, forever it seems, to let others in, to stitch their wounds.
Perhaps it's me, the one in pain, who should be alone, never to know.
what happiness is, where true freedom lies, peace, joy, and elation, should all come in time.
But what about me, and the time I spent? What about my heart, and the hurt that others lent?
For those few who endured, so much pain and strife, let me help them, and now live a good life.
What's to say about me? About MY pain and strife, all my suffering, and the blood stained knife?
The blade holds MY pain, it shows all what's within, and that which I hold onto, such a regrettable sin.
Despite all this trouble, all these hardships I had to endure, it was worth it in the end, I can finally say 'I love her.'
Alas, I have but three things, each which I hold close, Ashley, sis, mom, and the father, son, and the holy ghost.
despite the time I've spent here, one thing remains, my scars never vanished, but I no longer feel pain.