You need not oblige
to the wavering hand
bear the sins of
the cursed,
devouring souls,
to come forth in
the future,
do not waver,
my child,
let not your
innocence
waver to the slits
of the bane,
nor shall your gender
define your stature
you, my child,
serve your home,
your land,
like you deserve it.
YOU ARE READING
Emotional cripple
Poetry"Is that paint on your lips?" they ask. • • • • • "Yes, the paint of my tainted soul," she say. -A collection of free style poems-
