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The Mockery of My Worth
Thou deign'd to scorn my humble, yearning soul,
With biting words, thou pierced through my fragile heart,
Thine eyes, a cruel jest, didst take their toll,
And left me lost in anguish, torn apart.
To be belittled thus, my spirit crushed,
By thee, whose love I sought with fervent zeal,
Thy scornful laughter, like a dagger hushed,
My dreams and hopes, once held, now cannot heal.
Yet still, I rise above thy barbed disdain,
For in my breast, a fire doth fiercely burn,
Though wounded, I shall not let thee ordain
My worth, for in myself, I shall discern.
So let thy mockery fall upon deaf ears,
For in my soul, a strength that perseveres.
© @Gj🐢
With biting words, thou pierced through my fragile heart,
Thine eyes, a cruel jest, didst take their toll,
And left me lost in anguish, torn apart.
To be belittled thus, my spirit crushed,
By thee, whose love I sought with fervent zeal,
Thy scornful laughter, like a dagger hushed,
My dreams and hopes, once held, now cannot heal.
Yet still, I rise above thy barbed disdain,
For in my breast, a fire doth fiercely burn,
Though wounded, I shall not let thee ordain
My worth, for in myself, I shall discern.
So let thy mockery fall upon deaf ears,
For in my soul, a strength that perseveres.
© @Gj🐢
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