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Seven was my number, When you first gave me that gift, The tunnel you forever fixed in my heart, I can make you remember, At home from Jean’s where I’d gone to mother play, You thoroughly dribbled a hot stick on my entire, A warning for me and my friends never to jumble, It was the first day my mind tried a prison getaway, Like you read my mind, And discovered my intended road, You welcomed me to a dinged home, A hell a little girl had to face, Daddy the respected name I called you, And pleaded every moment to pass through, You understood well what I wanted, But you only jazzed plastics flames to my hands, Like a refugee I sneaked my eyes as they played, My chemicals dancing in pain whenever I moved, The soar laughter my mouth wheezed, With the aggregating pain whenever you mined deeper in my land, They were never an outcast as you made me see, Truth is they were the best bequests one could ever have, The fine memories you prevented me from creating, A slanted life is what you certified me to living, You polluted my entire life, From the day mum went to live in the skies, That day I became an urchin even with you by my planes, Even though am twenty now I still curse the heavens, The sky that took away my life; bequeathed it to the monster, My father a swine who instilled pain to always remember, The punches he muted my cries with are cropped memories, Too large to fit to the folder of my recollections, The fair judgment belong to deity but this is my case, The girl who swam in torture in many years without justice, Am not ashamed to drive my own flesh to many years in jail, Why should I free the man who censored my breath in his cell? You tilted my world turning my head to a toddling object, My soul bleeds from the stabs enterprised by your conducts, My heart asthmatically dancing to rhythms of its sad songs, Perhaps someday I will find my shadow; and forgive you; maybe then I shall decant this fuming pain,
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