The poem
Until you've lived my life, don't tell me what you'd do,
you weren't there for the shit I had to drag myself through.
You didn't walk my road or carry my pain,
or fight through the nights just to get up again.
You never saw the moments I nearly gave in,
or how hard I had to fight just to fucking begin.
You don't know the price of the choices I made,
or the parts of myself I had to bury and trade.
So keep your opinions, your judgement, your view,
because none of that bullshit was happening to you.
I've paid for my choices in ways you'll never see-
so what you fucking think doesn't matter to me.
The design
Comfort Colors® 1717, with the Typewriter Manuscript design printed on the front.