I don’t know how to go on
After running those races as merely a pawn.
Because I let myself be used,
I was reminded of what it is to lose.
But so what?
I know how to trip and fall,
Even if I have given it my all.
What hurts is to watch from the ground,
And watch as my work scatters all around.
The dagger slashing through my body is one
That makes me feel as if I should be done.
The blade is crafted from seeing miles and miles,
Simply crumble and crack like worn kitchen tiles.