I sit without a single stare,
life by stealth, disregarded.
It is as though you don't even know I'm there
or something you stood on and swiftly discarded.
Cradling myself away, guarded
from the contempt in their voice.
My eyes grow heavier, my patience bombarded,
I am faced with a gut wrenching choice.
Would my end meet mourning or rejoice
with the rain falling like my heavy heart,
but by my own coffin at the darkest hour I was hoist
out of the abyss, where I now shall depart.
In those hours, I saw what may be
when I thought there was no light to see
and although my joy has no guarantee
I now stand alone, but stand alone for me.
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