Poem: On Pain and Its Utterances in the House of Comfort

There is a pain whose most apt utterance is “Why?”
It strikes peculiarly, particularly, acutely-
Defying expression and reason- hence, “Why?”
It throws into question the very notion of comfort.
What is comfort? Why do we seek it and settle for it?
And what is this pain that unsettles us from our comfort?
Perhaps comfort is a settlement- occupied, unknown.
“Home” built atop the graveyard of sublimated labors-
Maybe that’s what comfort is, and pain is the groan of skeletons.
The skeletons beneath “home’s” foundation cry out, “Why?”
But “why?” is not the embodied sound we hear in our pain- 
For their cries resonate on a different register altogether.
It registers to us occupiers as a groaning from the deep-
Unintelligible, yet clearly felt.

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