Death of the Satire Mirror

I am not the Satire Mirror.
I have given up the facade,
Which, I suppose is stupid,
and idiotic, and painful, and odd.

I come here to be seen as a human
In the eyes of the skeptics,
And I know my ways are wrong,
But how can I help it?

My life is so hectic!
Right now, more than anything,
I am a heart, just kind of sitting,
Watching other hearts suffering,
From Misfortune's laughter and endless hitting.

And I wonder if it will happen to me again,
That darkness, assuming I try,
Pushing my head under with those horrid blinders on,
Laughing at me, saying "Oh goodbye!"

And I wonder if I can surface again,
Assuming I go back under,
Or if I'll just stay there until
Some hero carries in rolls of thunder.

Right now, more than anything,
I need that hero to show me I can
Raise my head against my foes
And drive them out of my land.

I come here to be seen as human
In the eyes of the terrible,
And to be known to have a woman's heart
With the life and strength of the lovable.

I am not the Satire Mirror.
I have given up.