I See An Open Doorway Poem by Peter Strugnell

When you ask me 'what line of work are you in now',
and I reply that I don't actually receive a wage,
I wish I could explain but I don't know how,
but I know I'm too young for retirement at my age.

I'm unfit to work, I know it doesn't show,
forgive me if I don't justify my existence,
it's a battle to stop an unhealthy feeling grow,
please don't feed an already guilty conscience.

I keep myself busy, with the down and needy,
it gives me a reason, so I do what i can,
please don't say these people aren't in difficulty,
you just devalue, everything that I am.

I feel marginalised by society now,
labelled 'good for nothing' or worse,
I don't need a job to define me anyhow,
I now consider a gift, what I considered a curse.

Because I know what it is that defines me,
it's not where I exchange hard earned time for pay,
it has been a while, but I'm beginning to see,
what once was a barrier, is now an open doorway.