Appraisal

A salute, crisp; a jaw, set.
A hand, precise, armed to beset.
Where you perceive a woman, too frail to kill,
I see a soldier, with a passion to fulfill.

Skipped meals and sleepless nights,
Patience encased in doctor's whites.
Where you perceive a woman past her best days,
I see sacrifice, and countless lives saved.

In a hard helmet and blue overalls,
She builds your floors and puts up your walls.
Where you perceive a woman in a hot costume,
I see an engineer with your ego to deplume.

We need no handicap, nor your appraisal.
We stand our ground, quite equally able.
We do all you do, so why compare?
We will, forever, our choices declare.

In Limbo

To answer your question: I am still here,
Sitting on the same edge of the same raggedy chair,
Ignoring bits of leather flaking off its skin
Onto dropped shoulders clouded by unwashed hair.
Worry not, I stay surrounded by recreation -
So I keep well; there is no need to despair;
I have known worse, so I know what to make of this,
With that last dark past I couldn't possibly compare -
That was hopelessness, but I've remitted my sin,
This is emptiness at best, to be completely fair.
I was dealt a generous hand, so I would not complain;
Blame the stagnancy taking a toll on my welfare.
It's just that you think you've left that dark place behind,
But it finds new ways to creep up on you everywhere.
So to answer your question, I'm still all here,
But it gets morbid in here, so I remain in prayer.