Oh, how foolish I was, to think
These monsters could ever be friends, a link.
To see the good, where shadows lie,
Believing kindness could make them high.
They shame me quick before their crowd,
While clutching their dreams, heads proud and loud.
Lusting in secret, eyes that gleam—
But I’m just the rag in their twisted scheme.
They mock my words, my style, my stance,
Play puppeteer in their heartless dance.
But dare I speak a word unkind,
About their mother’s saintly mind?
Parade as men with hearts so pure,
As daughters dance, their future’s cure.
Yet here I stand, the wreckage bare,
Of women left in pieces, everywhere.
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