There's no weight on my shoulder,
But there's a guillotine at my throat.
If I stagger, if I falter
This will be all I wrote.
This pain that I am feeling,
You dare say it's not enough?
My wounds, they are not healing,
It has nothing to do with being tough.
Everyone handles different,
We have different wheels, in and out.
In the places you are tolerant,
I could be shut-out.
So take your little pixie nose,
Your giggling disbelief.
All your violent jabs just show
the pain you hide down deep.
Everyone has a guillotine
Hung above their hope.
The only difference I can see
Is if you loose the rope.
;-)
Excellent poem! Great points & great advice. You have the voice, the strength & wisdom, to never be defeated;-)