deepundergroundpoetry.com

Acts of service (the fifth child’s lament)

What is left of me to love?
if I have nothing left to do
if I have nothing left to use
if I’m not worth anything to you.

What is my place in the picture?
if I can’t bring anything to the table
if I can’t show that I
am worth the trouble—

Who will wait for me?
Where am I to stand?

What am I?
Written by Zenisith (Zweig)
Published
Author's Note
My father probably should go to therapy.... He has a lot of generational trauma to sort through. I am trauma dumping for him because he's too fucked up to do it himself.
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