The knife which wounds forgiven I

There it is; the knife of my sorrows. Nothing I can do but stay still, smiling, while it comes to stab me. Ow, the pain...
The knife pulls back. I sketch another smile and open my arms (eyes full of tears) but all in vain... it stabs me again, and again, and again.
The Knife pulls back. My strength to be on my feet are gone, but still I open my arms. On my knees, but open they are! The tears, now they are more than just tears. They're requests. Requests that scream for the ending of the pain. Wow, this pain... make it stops!
The knife pulls back. Now I don't have strength even to be on my knees. I'm on the ground (the tears, now dry). But anyway, I'm still smiling and opening my arms...