24 December 2012
It's not my fault
It never is
And still you manage
To twist my words
Around and around
So cruel
To have them serve you-
No!
I'm the wordsmith here
You're the artist
Why can't I control
My tongue?
Where has the silver gone?
It's you that's stolen it
Right out of me
Clever and critical
Waiting for one mistake
To pounce on
And lord it over my head
It's like talking to a wall-
No, a mirror that adds
Cutting words back to you
I am bound, helpless
What's the point
Of putting up
Even a token protest.
Untitled #Unfair • Opuss № I