they sat up there
high and clean,
robes that reeked of power
and I stood down below,
a kid,
hands in pockets
or chained behind my back.
since nine, it was always the same—
the faces changed,
but the eyes,
they stayed cold as stone.
I learned young
not to look for mercy,
not to plead,
just nod
and listen to them talk about me
like I wasn’t there,
like I was...
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