Sunday 13 December 2015

TRAINED FOR SLAVERY, BORN FOR FREEDOM: A Poem of Introspection


She told me it would be okay
That I should go there, with them
What I didn't realize that day
Was that they, was actually, just, him

He molded me and branded me
Into a creation of his
He, my Master
I, his little miss

Had I known he was not my first
I could have avoided the later mess
I watched my freedom drive away in her hearse
Along with the freedoms of the rest

There were many of us, "slaves"
Cult members, we now know
About their knack for discipline, everyone raved
We had no one, no help, nowhere to go

I fought and I fought against the tyranny they called HOLY
I watched myself disintegrate, surely and slowly
To their whim, I bowed, and accepted as real
No love, just hate, was all I could I feel

So now, let's return to my second Master, the man
Try to understand my memories, if you can
First her, now him, my mother, then her brother
Laid still, sanity killed, I've always belonged to another

She beat me, she loved it, I cried, inside died
He touched me, he loved it, tried suicide, came alive
Now confused?
Then, let me explain the name of this game

Suicide is Freedom, to a miss of six, abused and sexed
Control gone, liberty lost, no place to hide, and vexed
Tied to beds and beaten
Lied on beds and entered
She lent me to others for their pleasure and rage
Eyes opened to these "things" while I was still underage

I've been trained for slavery, bending to others' will
My freedom?  My body, at any moment, I can kill
I tried many times and failed, oh well
Who will accept me now?  Where will I go? Heaven or Hell?

Enters my next Master, THE ONE
He whom I see everywhere but is never seen
To HIM, even now, I run
HE never sees me as dirty, only clean

She told me, HE, THE ONE, would hate me forever
HE told me to obey her, my mother, to disrespect her never
So I did it, because I loved HIM, HIS WORD, I deeply felt
HIS WORD made it okay, the fucked-up life I was dealt

So, I read HIS WORD, every minute, every day, every week
From Genesis to Revelations, made me strong, erased the weak
Every spare minute I had, to HIS WORD I listened, I peeked
My interests, my curiosities had now been thoroughly piqued

But, wait, are these words really from HIS mouth?
From whose orifice did these scriptures utter out?
Then, I begin, to question EVERYTHING.  What is right?
I made a plan. Run away. Soon. When she leaves. At night.

May 1, 1995. I did it. I left. I was 17.
My older sister, also a runaway, was not quite as keen.
She knew the style of our mother, instincts invisible, demeanor mean.
My sister also knew of this harsh world, specifics of which I hadn't seen.

Welcoming me into her home, she shared with me all she had
For her sacrifices and love, if I could, I would be more than glad
But, I cant, you see, these emotions for me are strange and unnatural
People abuse, are not to be loved or trusted, my truths are factual

I have a daughter now, and to this ONE Master, I yet, pray
Give me a facade of love and care, for this is not my trained way
Let my childhood hurricanes produce her storms of protection
May my abusers' thunders precede her rains of love and laughter
May she know an authentic childhood and a beautiful life ever after

But, know, I must go and continue to break my personal chains
For so long, my life, my body, my freedom, others have claimed
All I know, is how to be Slave or Master, from them I was taught
Maybe, one day, I will lead a different life, have a new thought
Until then, I belong to the one who knows me the most
So, to that one, I raise my glass, I make this toast
Know who I am, see me for me
I am now a slave but I yearn to be free
 
C.A.C - Cheap Ass Copyright
These are my words from my life from my heart to you. Thank you for respecting and appreciating that.




No comments:

Post a Comment