Punching Bag

by Maria Lisa Polegatto

​I thought punching bags were fake
Not Human
So why do I feel so beaten up inside
I walk on mine fields around you
Waiting for the next explosion
Dodging snarls and glares
Each day you strengthen intensity
Your tolerance for my existence
Wearing thinner as I dare to exist
Pick, pick, picking for a fight
Every thing I do bothers you
And then you boil over
Running to tell your stories
Making up the details, embellishing the facts
Right you are in your own mind
Warning others to stay clear of me
Crazy I am for being near you
Fighting for friends in your own mind
It must be hard to live inside of you
Wishing, hoping, pushing me aside
How dare I exist, especially in front of you
Wearing what I wear, how I talk, how I am me
Others friend you not, but rather fear you
I would rather be liked for being nice
But you can have your druthers
It is your life to waste away in hate and envy
My life may look easy to you
I owe you not my life 
You can be sweet in front of the right people
But least then turn we have the rest of you
Snide, pointing out with curse under breath
So you can put us in our place 
Beneath your foot to stomp us out
You would get much more with nicety
Laugh a little
Life is meant to be enjoyed not criticized
Practice finding joy inside of you
You be you and I'll be me
The two are not meant to cross
But rather compliment the task at hand
I'm just trying to do my part
Not bother you for simply being me
Good luck, I wish you well and happiness
​Punching bags are fake, not human.