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This is a very bitter poem about the truths of family. |
| Oh the tragedy that surrounds my birth… A family in mourning… An absent father… A woman carrying a warrior in her womb She searches for her husband He wears a mask of a holy and righteous man But come the night… A woman from the brothels will open her legs Without a fight - So long as she gets her gold -She will gladly do as she is told But the one who wears the gold on her finger Will greet him dutifully and obediently When he returns in the morning. Oh the tragedy that surrounds my birth Maybe I should never have been born… |