This is it.
Are you happy?
I'm stretched,
and threadbare.
My threads of life slip through my fingertips,
as the scissors are drawn.
So close to the end,
and yet, so far away.
Cold warped fingers wrap around the skin,
as the icy, fiery hot daggers twist and pull at my heart.
Like the double edged sword to a wound.
Calling to the blind and forcing them to see,
Making the cripple walk,
what have we all come to?
Are we to live in this hell?
Are we to hurt and destroy others?
What id it were your own spouse, or children, or family??
Would you hurt them too?
Can you take my hand and life me up?
Or are you too good to touch me?
Or even glance my way?
Who made you God?
I know that if I were God,
I'd want you to go though all the pain you made me do.
But i have one thing you don't.
Compassionate love.
I know I am not deadly beautiful,
or perfect skinned.
But I do know,
that my life is worth something.
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