The Jar

I have a jar filled with empty words
All sounding as if they came from birds
They all meant well, but I knew better
Than to receive yet another rejection letter
Signed and sealed they’ll hurt no more
Unless there’s one again by the door
I hate disguises, they’re my mocking jay
They demoralize me in every known way
What is the difference from friend and foe?
I can never tell when both step on my toes.
All things in spite of what happens too much
My body can’t move unless with a crutch
Is it too much to ask for a little discretion
When my emotions are attacked with only aggression?
What can I do to understand
That I can’t keep accepting unreliable hands?
This jar I keep is half empty and full
But possessing it makes life so dull