…….Forgive us lord as we live by the sword, as a child I was whipped to set an accord with a cord, stood up only to get knocked to the floor, the beginnings and afflictions of a warlord, down the cubbyhole of destruction, the lavatory where its merits are formed, human monstrosities are born, in the name of whatever we say it’s for, today it’s because we say we were scorned, ah yes, a people torn will be our crown of thorns, who cares if it’s the same script as before, as long as I’m on the other side of the whip I endured..
-
Author:
EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 31st, 2025 10:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 26
- Users favorite of this poem: Mutley Ravishes
Offline)
Comments2
A sad poem of abuse and wish for freedom from it. There is nice rhyme included that makes it flow. Nicely done
Thanks, glad you enjoyed it.. abuse is something humanity seems to have made lemonade with.. it has surely found its place
Well written and expressed
Thanks
You're welcome
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.