Faulty Armor

So here we go again.

I don't just use my spoons or lose my spoons,

But you burn them until I'm branded and then toss them aside.

Then you wonder why I can't serve you.

I decide I'm done.

I shape a shield, but I'm a fool pretending I'll let it protect me.

You call me out on my shield, and I come running back.

I'm back to being your servant.

I grow stronger.

I build a better shield, but you're too fast.

You claw at me until I'm bleeding out,

Then, put a bandage on and cradle me.

But I see you.

I grow wiser.

I craft a helmet, but you have a sword.

You slash through me, but claim it's the other guy's sword,

So it's his fault, not yours.

I'm too tired.

I'm back at your feet.

Maybe one day, I can design a suit of armor.

One you can't get through.

One that will let me live.

One that will let me run

And you can't catch me.