Something Missing

Some people have something missing,
It's little gap,
In themselves.
Perhaps it is self doubt.
Are they of value?
Are they here for a reason?

And this doubt,
Creates a terrible gnawing inside.
That drives them to despair,
Or other desperate measures.
They cling to the edge of life,
With their knuckles whitening.

Mostly people fill this gap
With purpose.
A life of industry and usefulness.
Some fill it with acts of kindness.
Others with the care of partners and children.
They all see themselves reflected in their deeds,
And find their worth.

She trawls the internet looking for love.
And pours out her sadness to strangers,
Hoping to find acceptance and approval.
I look on hopelessly.
She isn't courageous enough,
To see the pattern of her folly,
And with each rejection,
Her gap increases.

Of This Town

He was of this town,
From the moment his eyes first perceived light.
Till they closed, as his light went out.
As he sat in the hospital in the next town,
His thoughts were always of his return.
The Catholic Church on the hill,
The house of his childhood,
The garage,
The town's water supply tank.
The pump house,
The golf club,
And his marital home,
These were the boundaries,
Of his life.
Within this town,
He grew, was educated, loved and was loved.
Here he found and served his community.
Here he was often happy.
Perhaps in the grand scheme of things,
Many may not find it worth celebrating,
Yet it was still a remarkable life.