Some gracefully accept, but not me…
I don’t want to fade, aged, unseen!
hushed, dejectedly as I shrink
‘neath the weight of another’s priorities…

where is the hand I seek
to draw me in glowing ink?
instead I’m gripped so tightly
sketched words overwriting my story
“come now, time to say ‘sorry’”
or shall my ink bottle fall
leave black stain; erase it all?
whatever may be most sane
just…let ME remain