O, sweet child,
What have they done to you?
The soft feathers upon your back,
Have been ripped to shreds by such attacks.
Their screams and lashes have wronged you so,
And now to they your heart goes.
Little child, once filled with spirit,
There is nothing more for you to commit.
Deny yourself life’s riches,
Toss away luxury, don’t relax.
The bitter truth of your purpose is this:
You weren’t worth anything anyways, as a matter of fact.
They yelled at you for a reason,
Those pious teachers and adults;
The point finally got through!
Despite your worthless days and nights.
O child, didn’t you know?
You mourned as you left your mother’s womb.
Such is why all babies cry,
As they’re thrown into their earthly tombs.
Child, know better,
The reasons they tell you no.
It’s because of their wisdom that you follow their say so.
Listen to those voices,
And listen very well.
When they finally fall silent,
You will not be well.
Your life will break apart,
As it crumbles and shambles.
All those years of being told what to do,
You’ve finally realized what you knew.
A simple puppet made from flesh to be molded by desire.
If you lose all hope for yourself then by all means,
Jump into the fire.