One night in the Easter holidays I was woken up with the first verse of this, and it has been haunting me ever since. The rhymes and structure are tenuous at best and the logical part of me is telling me to burn it, in the same way I do two-thirds of all my other poems, and forget it ever existed. However, I can't seem to shake it, so I'm hoping that publishing it will finally make my brain accept that it's finished and move on.
What is it you want from me,
Confirmation that your path was right?
Or do you just want me to give
My life for yours, that you might live?
Are your glasses that rosy,
Can you not remember your own plight?
You may have reached your tunnel's end,
Other wounds take longer to mend.
I had hoped that you would see,
The cost of asking for new insight.
Your passion and strength serve you well,
But some of us still live in hell.
And now, 'through a glass darkly',
You're looking with scorn upon my fight -
For all we are alike, we two,
I can't just drop what you outgrew.
Enough pressure, let me be:
My head is hurting, my chest is tight.
I needed an objective eye,
Not a lecture on 'do or die'.
I feel like a sapling tree,
Expected to grow in strength and height.
But some trees take longer to grow,
And are no worse for going slow.
I never wanted your pity,
I am aware that I sound uptight:
You misunderstood my question -
You judged me on your own fortune.
So now I'm feeling guilty
For looking to you who is so bright;
A role model I only bore,
Who kicks me down upon the floor.
I asked for help, finally -
Put my pride away, worked through the fright.
In different ways the battle's won,
And now I hold the smoking gun.
I'm losing all energy,
I'm sure it affords you great delight.
I kinda thought that you would know,
Old scars reap what new wounds sow.