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Made-up Slaughter
I gave birth to a daughter
her face covered in make-up
Ill-fated as an animal for slaughter
my toddler-daughter wore no top
Tumbling away from me in high-heels
still tied to me by an eternal cord
From the moment she breathed, she ate no meals
a little baby who knew not to follow The Lord
A constant breast-feeding of a fake-boobed baby
took the life out of me, a pessimist first time mom
Freedom was no option, not even a maybe
freedom is only for the free, only for some
poem
by
Lisa thecountrygirl Timmermand
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