Musox

To know he has my part

hurts and pleases me inside

my pencil marks remain

guiding his sticks to collide

A double-edged sword

where none does reside

How can all this matter?

Mutual affections did slide

I stood in the way of progress

my importance has died

Replaced by poor excuses

Ill fitting situations coincide

Scenes float past my vission

resembling a carnival ride

To what part of the room

should I force my disgust to glide?