poetry entry 3 and 4

I hate the finger you use to ridiculice me 

I hate the way you leave me to fend for myself at sea 

I looked up to you like never before 

But once I saw up, I couldn’t for my eye was sore 

Every hit and slam never moved me away 

I am the air around you, a reminder that you never found the way

So do it again, grab that sword and prove who you are as quick as the whisper 

Prove I’m not worth it, sister.