Nods

Heart pounding in fierce fearful frenzies
so terrified every act will never see a nod
from that god who terrorizes
because of that scepter of approval being held.

Groveling in such humiliation
out of panic there might be another
shake of the head to rip apart the insides,
totally discarding any sense of pride
in hopes this time every gesture done
will end with a smile instead of a frown.

It’s the horror of living in a tail spin
since there is no being lifted
even though within you still dream
of that one moment in fantasy
when acceptable comes to your acts.

Meanwhile it’s the endless agony
that inner sickness of need
from always being a sacrifice
left bleeding and mutilated
whose pain and suffering
merely inspires a yawn
if noticed at all.