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Poem: Helpliner By Sharon

You don`t know me,
I`m a voice on the phone,
A number you chose to call,
To share your deepest fears.
You call from a place of safety,
Anonymous from your home,
A haven that`s a safe prison,
Where rituals and habits rule.
You cry out your despair,
Sob your sheer panic aloud;
You share your darkest secrets,
Your life story pours out.
Sometimes you vent your anger,
I am your target that day.
Venting your frustrations,
We somehow find another way.
You may ring to share fantasies,
The chance taken to thrill,
You`re redirected hastily,
As your needs I simply distil.
You ring me in loneliness,
Your solitude suffocating,
You`re one of my `regulars`,
Weeks pass with no one visiting;
You ruminate, building fears,
Reaching fever pitch alone,
Your worst case scenarios,
We breath/talk via the phone.
You`re individuals, each one,
Separate lives, different seasons.
Sometimes a loved one phones,
Unable to comprehend the reasons,
Their call as valuable as yours,
They try to understand, want to,
They feel frustrated, then guilt,
They call as they love you.
I listen to you all, each person,
Patiently, quietly, with empathy,
I focus on your words, between the lines, The unsaid deciphered silently.
I cherish your thank you`s,
I Leave the line with a smile,
I helped you today,
You praised me,
I heard you relax, laugh even,
It wasn`t easy, but thank you!

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