by Nick Gisburne
Is this the shame you wanted me to see?
Is this the pain you needed me to feel?
Is this what you were certain I would be?
There’s no illusion. Everything is real.
You made a dismal, disappointing child.
You made a victim, easy to control.
You made me into nothing, and you smiled,
Pretending I was wanted, welcome, whole.
You’re happy, are you? Where’s my piece of that?
You’re happy. No surprise, you kept it all.
You’re happy. Really? Every time you spat
On any of my dreams you watched me fall.
Grow old, alone. Condemn me if you dare,
But never wonder why I’m never there.
