Fictitious respect handed down to her
a baby face and bottom crying dropped
in fifth consistent battle whisperer
the pain and guilt her stomach would sink popped
Fast forward through ten or eleven years
she sits here getting beat up in sundown
she knows exactly why—her dreams drowned smear
the rain stopped turning the world crispy brown
The salty tears dried up so many years ago
her eyes dry emptiness being released now
then thoughts occurred to her—I am the foe
the rains came back and she made a true vow
She will get out of self-defeating way
because she needs control and has a say