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Literature Text
the world painted you a whore
red with royal blood and the
lies that swim through it
they put you on a cross
and cut a sibling from each arm
while your father preyed at your feet
life spun on with you on the edges
and you carried the grief
of a thousand women before you
and a thousand more after
you were no different from any other
but it was your name they chose
you became what you were suppose
to be and then were punished
like Eve from her precious garden
you were hoping to be forgotten
but the books were already written
one year of sinful pleasure
for centuries of contempt
red with royal blood and the
lies that swim through it
they put you on a cross
and cut a sibling from each arm
while your father preyed at your feet
life spun on with you on the edges
and you carried the grief
of a thousand women before you
and a thousand more after
you were no different from any other
but it was your name they chose
you became what you were suppose
to be and then were punished
like Eve from her precious garden
you were hoping to be forgotten
but the books were already written
one year of sinful pleasure
for centuries of contempt
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