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.





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