Holly
I am not your whipping boy
nor heaven's slave
or devil's toy
I am not your good luck dick
your statistic or last choice misfit
I am not your father's son
I trust no more and bow to none
I am not your saving grace
I curse your name with spit in face
I am not your falling star
my destiny is mine thus far
I am not your soul to mend
we all take our masks off in the end
Copyright © Ben Brennan | Year Posted 2008
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