Wounds into Wisdom
The woman behind the curtain?
Oh, I know her all too well.
The games she plays,
Are like fiery hell.
In need of a friend,
She'll stop her stage show.
Next her crocked smile appears,
The one that appears straight through my tears.
Handing me a knife,
She tells me I'm weak.
And because she's my friend,
I take it in relief.
After the deed is done,
And she's given me what I deserve,
Her audience gives her a clap,
As she sneaks behind the curtain for yet another encore.