I’ve submitted my applications.
To be the proxy if need be.
You’ve read my papers;
The clause of letting go,
It is set in stone hearts.
You’ve been left alone and hurting,
I’ve become the proxy for him.
The bandaid over your wound,
To be discarded once healed.
When will you fire me?
Setting me ablaze by losing my job?
When will I be thrown?
Discarded once my purpose is served?
I have had a premonition,
That things will slowly fall into place.
I will be left alone once more,
After my purpose is done.
I’ve served many masters,
All of which are of my choosing.
I’ve been let go before,
After my time has been reached.
It’s normal for me to be forgotten,
Left rotting six-feet beneath.
I have died a thousand deaths,
All to save those in need.
I am dedicated to this unlife,
Of sacrifice and giving everything.
It is my purpose and duty,
To give my life up for others.
Despite the pain and suffering,
Despite chipping away at my heart,
Despite depleting my soul,
I will give and give and give.
All in the spirit of love,
All in the hope of receiving it,
All in the faith of enduring it,
All in the love of sacrifice.
I’m just a proxy,
To replace those who’re lost.
My papers are here,
When will my contract end?
I think it will soon enough.
A poem of being the person that’s always there for others. For us who are left alone after being of no more use. We are the tools at your disposal, the means to an end. No longer human, dedicated to serve.
