A rebirth marked in blood,
And The staining of white sheets.
I was now a woman.
I was now some mans toy.
I was now your child factory.
You cared not of my feeling or wishes
When I cried out and spoke
I was treated like broken machinery
You tried to shove cogs and coils into places they did not belong.
You tried wiping my hard drive clean over and over,
But I am no machine,
I am a human being.
I am the daughter that you birthed,
And now I am the broken girl you hurt.
YOU ARE READING
through toil and chance
PoetryPoetry for the doers and the dreamers. Poetry for the lovers and the fighters. Poetry for the soul seeker and the self lover. Poetry for the misfits and the outcast. Poetry for the classicist and poetry for the modernist. Pictures featured are not...
