on the verge
i am pushing
and it's absurd
you'd think I'd be
farther around the bend
but it has been
slow going again
and again
pushing through molasses
stopped up by huddled masses
this city's full of angels
and they don't need another
trying soul
to entertain them
but the sucker is
i need to be that soul
because though my hair
is adept at changing
my soul's not so much
and it yearns to be
appreciated for the
hard working, but oft rejected
little, stubborn, bruised and
worn down, limping but not yet
worn out
son of a gun
it is
(please take me as i am)
(if you cannot- please make me better)
(please don't overlook me)
(please take me as I am)
(for what I am is: always trying)
(hurt but always rising)
(a woman on the verge)