Was I created to be taken for granted?
To do the work no one else wants?
To be used over and over,
And never be thanked?
Was I created to make the lazy happier?
To do their bidding while they sit around?
To smile when they point out,
Everything I could have done better?
Was I created to be ignored?
To have a opinion that never counts?
To be laughed at for my views,
That differ from the norm?
Was I created to be stepped on?
To be the butt of every joke?
To be the target of every bully,
Simply because I am unique and have no brand name?
On days like today the answer seems clear.
The word yes rings clear.
And then I remember the few that truly understood me.
Oh, what would it be like to live with them?
On days like tomorrow the answer fades away.
It lingers in the mist of doubt.
But never disappears.
Oh, what will the future hold?