What am I?

A poem

Image sourced from Pixabay

I look out from behind eyes
That are drowning with unshed,
Never to be shed tears.
Chock full of self pity I rail against myself in disgust…

But…
Trapped in the skin of circumstance,
The world no longer looks at me.
Having bent so often to accommodate,
Bits of me have snapped beyond repair.

What is there in my mirror?
Not even a reflection of an idea that you might once have had of me.

And so I find myself,
Despite my best intentions,
Just…
One of those that was born to serve.

© Cathie Tufnail

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