I know, “The struggle is real.” You preciously cling onto the nickels and dimes scattered across the counter. When you had to exchange your time just to have me under your wing until I could fly on my own, I understood when told me I wasn’t worth it.
As I almost completed my free-fall, you graciously looked down and noticed a pile of boulders would initiate my landing so as you let go of my fingertips and turned your back on me, I understood when you told me I wasn’t worth it.
With nothing but the scratches on my corpse I clawed and muscled my way into a tunnel of hope. The light gave off an unusual glare that blinded everyone except myself—unable to move forward, when you climbed off my back and couldn’t go any further, I understood when you told me I wasn’t worth it.
At some point I came across a mirror, so crystal clear and sharper than the eye. The man inside began to speak and I continued to listen while giving no rebuke. After seeing how far I traveled and the fatigue in my voice, I understood when he told me I wasn’t worth it.