They refuse let this happen,
I’m in a pretty good mood today,
but the snide whispers have begun.
Belittling smirks behind their paws,
I sink into my chair and slightly fade,
they all want to see me die.
Feeling comfortable is rare for me,
but they make it feel shameful,
that I am unworthy of happiness.
Vicious cold jackals waiting to feed,
on my mangled emotional carcass
when I’m pushed from this height.