What do I have left to give
I’m spent and fading like a week-old rose
I gave my beauty to uncaring eyes
Who never saw beyond the makeup
I gave my talent to unfeeling moguls
Who used it just to monetize
I gave my wisdom to foolish clowns
Who read my musings upside down
I gave my razor wit to empty faces
Who never tried to get the joke
I gave my toil to unappreciation
And unwillingness to compensate
I sang my song to deafened ears
And never got to hear applause
I wrote my words on tissue paper
And they left them outside in the rain
I gave my heart in hopeful sharing
And got it back in shredded pieces
I have nothing left to give....but up
And somehow I just can’t do that.
ljm
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 1:35 AM UTC
What do I have left to give
I’m spent and fading like a week-old rose
I gave my beauty to uncaring eyes
Who never saw beyond the makeup
I gave my talent to unfeeling moguls
Who used it just to monetize
I gave my wisdom to foolish clowns
Who read my musings upside down
I gave my razor wit to empty faces
Who never tried to get the joke
I gave my toil to unappreciation
And unwillingness to compensate
I sang my song to deafened ears
And never got to hear applause
I wrote my words on tissue paper
And they left them outside in the rain
I gave my heart in hopeful sharing
And got it back in shredded pieces
I have nothing left to give....but up
And somehow I just can’t do that.
ljm
Sometimes I feel like a dishrag that's been wrung out one too many times.