I am not a victim.
I don’t feel like a survivor.
I’m not sure exactly what I am,
some days I just feel so very tired.

At times I have been fragile,
or as implacable as stone.
I have been the life of the party
even content just to be alone.

I have had many failures,
the bitterness of them remains.
I have exalted in small victories,
though quietly, as I am not vain.

I have been a disappointment,
and have been disappointed in turn.
Paid attention, gained some wisdom,
yet every day there is more to learn.

I have danced my days to another’s tune,
refused and become life’s wallflower.
Still, when I hear love’s music play,
I am drawn to its irresistible power.

I have climbed that treacherous peak,
screamed my soul raw at its summit.
Stumbled as I looked on in awe,
to the darkness I did plummet.

Whether I leave tomorrow or in fifty years
given a choice, I’ll take the latter,
I will hope my time here was … necessary,
that to someone, my existence mattered.

M. Zane McClellan

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