10-30-98
Crushed by the weight of this legacy
So tired I can hardly breath
Losing my balance on this tightrope
That I walk in ill-equipped shoes.
Stopping long enough to glance in the only mirrors to be found-
Distorted, in the fun house, not so fun.
I am a work horse, a show horse, with blinders
Seeing only what my masters want me to see
Carry this burden here, do not show the sag
Balance on this ball–give a good show.
If I could see through your eyes
What would there be to behold?
