Who’s To Say
I sit in this black sunken in chair,
With a face void of expression,
An empty stare,
Not indicating happiness, yet not indicating depression.
You yell yet it is you that made me this way,
Because of you this is what I’ve become,
What do you want me to say?
What more do you expect after years of being belittled; having to succumb.
To you, hardly a queen,
Hardly anything of importance for that matter,
I’m ashamed I’m a product of your gene,
But does it really matter?
Who’s to say I’ll be anything like you,
Who’s to say I’ll follow in your wicked ways,
The ideas to be complete opposite of you,
Find my own ways.
I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for you to say “I love you”,
I’d have to be dumb,
Because no matter what I do,
I know for me; those words will never come.
Christina Bledsoe
Authors Comment:
To the forever unforgiven, may you rot in hell.
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Lovely by Christina
When Nothing is Said - Poetry in Motion (PIM) by Christina
I Am Here *Nonet by Christina
In The Attic of Her Mind by Christina
First Day of School by Christina
