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Rated: · Poetry · Emotional · #1345194
A sick relationship that both sides crave.
So, you think I'm your little wind-up doll.
A toy to be used for your sick, sadistic pleasure,
A mindless slave used for any measure.
A thought of my own is highly forbidden,
So I keep my ambitions very well hidden.
Any time I'm filled with mirth,
I realize how much I'm worth.
I am beginning to learn,
A required Sojourn,
will free me from you,
Hence all that I do.
Now out on my own,
But now I'm alone.
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