The pity pot is full to the brim
With bits of anger and bit of sin
We sit on the pot all day and all
Night and cry out to people
This isn’t right
I should be rich I should be loved
Should be happy and be able to solve
All life’s worries and woes
I should have totally loyal friends.
The pity pot wobbles remembering the times
When people scorned us and let us down
In childhood, in friendship and marriage and work
People failed us when we needed them most
If only, If only, people understood. The pity pot trembled,
Reliving the past when treated harshly, we built up the walls
To protect our vulnerable, emotional selves
If only If only, we had been treated with love, respect
And kindness but nobody cared
The pity pot it overflows
With endless moans and growling groans
Oh pity me my life has been hard
You don’t understand we cry aloud
The pity pot spreads out its arms and
Spreads it contents far and wide encircling
Family friends and foe it blocks our progress
And we remain emotionally stuck in the pity game.
Gemma Hill Writeyou Writeme 