the cruelty of life

here i am , sitting in the palm of life's hand

tiny, insignificant, a living breathing human being

nothing in comparison to the mean hand in which i lie

under the thumbs control for years

squashed, squeezed, fingertips clenching tightly

under a cruel and threatening hand

the years i cried inside, unrelenting

never gave up, squeezing , squashing my already fed up mind

never gave up bullying, and bullying, me

the amount of times i simply wanted to sit

the amount of times i wanted to feel content

happy in a gentle and supportive hand

a caring hand , one with its fingertips away from my mind

my skin, nothing touching me , not even a fingernail

some people smile in life's gentle hand,  the lucky lot

treated nicely and with respect  

life looks after them , refuses to prod

with a thumb, refuses to squeeze, squash or taunt

just lays languidly, softly, allowing the person to breathe

too many times have a cried for a fairer hand

a non bullying one, but the palm refused to listen, to me

unable to change it's ways , i just wanted a break

a subtle soft hand, a nicer place to sit

why was that never allowed

despite the small breaks in my mind

the moments where i felt better, the times of less upset

less pain , i still had to sit in that hand

the one which decided to squeeze me again '

it was just waiting, waiting

of course i was under a cruel hand

the hand of an unfair life , an unfair palm

not really sure why it had to be that way

why i could not sit on a friendly surface

why not? the rest of my family

happily content with their hand

they sit happily , a fair life , a fair deal

a friendly surface, no bullying

being under a thumbs control

i wish i was given the nice hand

you know, the one with soft and gentle fingertips

i can't make sense of the way life has treated me

not sure i understand why life has to be so cruel

angered at the cruelty of life's palm

i wish i was a bird so i could jam my beak

sharply into the bullying hand which hurt me

all those wasted years, being hurt

squashed , squeezed, bruised

under the control of an unfair existence

an unfair bullying hand which refused to give up

taunting me with its stupid and horrible fingernails

i wish i was a bird so i could jam my beak

into life's surface, hurt life , just like it hurt me

jam my beak against its nasty skin

so it would realise the damage

maybe then it would give up

taunting me , squeezing me, hurting me

change its ways, maybe life's personality

maybe it would change

change into a tender and lovely man or woman

i wouldn't care, as long as they were friendly , caring , nice

treated me with respect and allowed me to just sit

there was no need for the unfriendly hand to be there

for so many rotten years, i wish it had never happened

any of it , i wish my mind was in a safe and gentle hand

one which took care of me , allowed me to feel happy

allowed me to breathe, a sad shame, i cannot turn back the clock

rewind time, change the hand into a gentle person

shame you cannot control life's cruel ways

why do some people sit in luck

why do some people sit in a puddle of tears

if i am a human being then

why has life hurt me , abused me

why have i been so hurt , trodden on , abused and thrown around

if i am a person , why do events in life have to hurt me this way

a walkover to life's cruel and unrelenting ways

events in life like this should never happen

as they say , life is for living

people say it so much of the time, and yet

so many of us fail to live

our lives when we are taunted by so much pain

this is what i cannot comprehend

one life and it has to be cruel ?

for such a long time

if that's not unfair then i don't know what is

enough said, life really is a bully

to me , and to many