As I collect the fragments of my broken world,
Besieged by haters and fires you cannot see,
Where sudden and brutal miseries are hurled,
And all my strength is claimed by painful necessity.
You weigh my silent endurance with a rigid line,
And call my absence a treason, trick, and game,
You seem convinced that every fracture in design
Was carved by choice to tarnish your own name.
You sit far, seeing in black and white a simple crime,
Wholly unaware that I fight just to survive the day,
I’m trying to hold the crumbling structures of my time
Against these storms that sweep the ground away.
Remember, while your assumptions cast me as the foe,
Here I am, fighting a siege that you will never know.