i get lost –
sea of fakes
of those hung up –
strung up
and endlessly confused
those who feel –
that they have been used

the clumsy emotional shifts
so very telling
the stumble and then a few steps
then the falling
like the animal newborn
like when it first opens its eyes

those scars
will be taken to adulthood
and knows
what damage
they will cause

the rock
not the one on your finger
not the husband
but the one they cling to

there is always –
one person
on the edge of a situation
who will push past –
those that matter

oh dear,
another poem
another piece of writing
miserable,
victim,
hard done by

articulate,
personable,
aware and clever
despite this,
did not want to employ me