HOW CAN I

They try to keep up their game because they see I refuse to back down; these bastards are doing everything and anything to make me lose my mind and tarnish my name. These people who sign my paycheck see that I will no longer break my neck for them.

How can I remain strong when they try to tie my hands in front of me and behind my back? How can I walk when they have taken my legs? They are trying to put on a tiered because I refuse to kiss their ass, and they know I am not like the other slaves begging like a dog for another treat even though I am hungry and need to drink and eat.

There was a time that I would be shaking in my boots and rushing to answer their call but now, with weakened legs, I walk barefoot to hear the sound of my blistered feet touching their once sacred ground.

How can I laugh? They ask when tears should be running from my face and I should be looking for a way out of this place. I guess they do not know that I always enjoyed running through hell and that it is my cup of tea as I sit back and watch the show that they are trying to create, forgetting that I am the man with the blood and the dirt on my hands making me my own creator