Weakness

A poem about incompetence

Don't kill me, don't kill me
My other side cried as I held
the knife to my throat.
What will you lose? Nothing at all
And what will you gain? Perfection

There is so much to live for-
Friends, family, health, spirit.
My friends couldn't care if they tried all their might,
my family is cruel to no end,
my health means nothing to a mind this crippled,
And my spirit-it's already left.

To where would your spirit
have fled from you so, to leave
you with this shallow husk?
To Laputa of course, where nothing can be.
Where I wish I could go, forever.

Well then, my friend, why don't you-
what's holding you back?
The fact that I'm too weak
to slit my own throat

I see. So you do