You cannot select more than 25 topics
Topics must start with a letter or number, can include dashes ('-') and can be up to 35 characters long.
51 lines
1.4 KiB
Plaintext
51 lines
1.4 KiB
Plaintext
Driven To Death
|
|
2022-03-09
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
"What's an operating system?"
|
|
Whether they were being serious, I could never tell,
|
|
but the question always hung over me like death's bell.
|
|
|
|
And although camp is now disbanded and dead,
|
|
still rings in a disused hall in my head
|
|
the words penned on whiteboard in striking red:
|
|
|
|
while all other girls were so much praise shot
|
|
about their skills, their quests, their help,
|
|
only written for me: "I guess she smiles a lot."
|
|
|
|
And when I complained that I had put in
|
|
more effort but barely anything received,
|
|
Mom marched me to apologize
|
|
even though in my eyes
|
|
I had committed no crime.
|
|
|
|
Just be happy with what you've got,
|
|
with the crumbs we've thrown your way;
|
|
never demand the more you're due,
|
|
just smile and bear the pain.
|
|
|
|
Just smile and bear the pain
|
|
of being a prototype, forging the way
|
|
to brothers to be done right, to be done at all,
|
|
listened to, heard, given right to complain,
|
|
and you yourself cast aside
|
|
to either be shown up or prepared to die.
|
|
|
|
I've failed the test on three separate times,
|
|
so I know for sure I can't legally drive.
|
|
If I need to get somewhere, either I catch a ride,
|
|
call a bus, or gather my breath
|
|
and bike.
|
|
But you're driving me to death.
|
|
You're running me raw.
|
|
Soon, I think, there'll be nothing at all.
|
|
Will you love me then, Mother, with Cheshire smile?
|
|
A lot of what's praised
|
|
and naught else remains.
|
|
|
|
***
|
|
|
|
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
|