They would see your freedom
Ripped away
They would see the price
You had to pay
The day you wept
As your mother lay dying
And they didn’t care
That her baby was crying.
You
should be strong
You should be proud
Now you cringe before
A roaring crowd
Callously “broken”
So long ago
And forced to perform
This awkward show.
Caught
up in the moment
As you “entertain”
They don’t notice the bull hooks
The scars, the pain
From their seats they don’t see
What your eyes say so well
If they saw they’d be sure
Yes, there’s a hell.
Copyright © 2007 by Wanda Embar. All Rights Reserved.
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