I am condemned
By my mother’s hand
and her anger
that flows like wine
murky and deep
By my fear of the
Unknown
By my father’s desperate
Desire for the world
To be
By my inability to
Focus
To thine ownself be true
And all else a lie
By my legacy of hate
And judgment
That has drowned me
I am a condemned
Woman
Hear my blood speak
it mocks me
It knows my
Grief and
Hunger
Yet it condemns
Me to gaze up on that which
Is not and cannot
Be mine.
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