This poem is dedicated to those dealing with narcissism.
An appearance of wanting to help
After all, people outside the family
Consider her the "sweetest person,"
You ever want to meet.
She washes her car frequently,
Crammed with all kinds of stuff.
Dirty on the inside, she can't see it,
Yet I do.
Never invite anyone to her home,
The instructions made clear.
It's hard to find
A place to sit.
My inheritance included
The old family home,
Her words expressed daily,
"It will all be yours someday."
I gave it all I had,
Windows, doors, roof, and more.
Trusting her words,
Yet, someday never came.
Disengage, my only choice,
She whispers in anger,
"I might lose the place."
But no one wanted it, but me.
It wasn't the empty promises,
The sacrifice, the money, and labor.
It wasn't the fact I trusted blindly,
Or threats to change the Will.
It was the dream,
The dream that died within.
I wish I could know her,
The way the public describe her.
It might have made a difference, 'ya know. Ever been treated like that?
An appearance of wanting to help
After all, people outside the family
Consider her the "sweetest person,"
You ever want to meet.
She washes her car frequently,
Crammed with all kinds of stuff.
Dirty on the inside, she can't see it,
Yet I do.
Never invite anyone to her home,
The instructions made clear.
It's hard to find
A place to sit.
My inheritance included
The old family home,
Her words expressed daily,
"It will all be yours someday."
I gave it all I had,
Windows, doors, roof, and more.
Trusting her words,
Yet, someday never came.
Disengage, my only choice,
She whispers in anger,
"I might lose the place."
But no one wanted it, but me.
It wasn't the empty promises,
The sacrifice, the money, and labor.
It wasn't the fact I trusted blindly,
Or threats to change the Will.
It was the dream,
The dream that died within.
I wish I could know her,
The way the public describe her.
It might have made a difference, 'ya know. Ever been treated like that?
