poem

priorities, you list me far back
the people in front, your vision is black
why do you not see, why do you not sense,
i am always there, always silently your defense.

distorted i am, a trophy not worthy of you,
how hard i am trying for you, if you only knew.
tempers erupt but are not sincerely meant,
it is only because of your torment, your torment.

alas! a dream would be of you putting me first,
a friend indeed, water to quench your thirst.
i so yearn for that sea of hope,
toss me the rope, toss me the rope...