I am made entirely of flaws and stitched together with good intentions

because my mother begged at the altar of my father’s rejections

bearing her claws and fighting tooth and nail to find cure to our infections

without fighting for her own she stuffed me and my sister with her imperfections

forcing us to be better and stirring us up in the biased direction

so we wouldn’t have to fear or maybe die when the world makes their selection

my deadbeat tried to ruin her and stain her all while hiding his erection

because he was deprived too causing him to turn a cheek to constructive correction

little did he know he was stacking oil barrels of hatred ton by ton

and giving me my content so a starving artist has something she can live from

sadly she is the only one to stand when all she was taught to do was run

and as she slowly sinks into the ground she will still refuse to blame anyone

for even a moment like chocolate kept in a car or the hot sun

she would never tell a soul about her dreams and what she wants to become

the life that she wishes to have will paralyze her past if they want it begun

but she would rather die then put in the painful sharp indelicate disgusting brutal indecent work in order to get things DONE