An Bháisteach

I'm standing in the rain,

you hurt me for personal gain.

I was your private dancer.

In my mind, there was no doubt about us;

we were fire starters catching shadows.

We would dance endlessly to Tina Turner

and Heart until the late hours of the morning.

But now I'm standing in the rain.

All I feel is pain.

 

I ask myself, from my

squelching shoes and sticking clothes:

"Why am I here..."