The Child

This one, Smart
Sees herself as only stupid
Constantly reminded
By stares confounded and confused
no one can follow her,
three steps forward and one step back.

This one, Pretty girl
Sees herself as only ugly
Pretty little girl they see, not she,
as he takes her out to Saturdays breakfast
Hands all touching, petting his precious pet.

This one, special
Sees herself as only wrong
Mirrored creature deformed, distorted
Morphed by psyche and authoritarian control.
Wrong words, wrong thoughts, wrong way.
I'm not the one in charge, Missouri.

This one, helper?
Sees herself helpless
To those she would protect and care for.
There is nothing she wouldn’t do and nothing she can.
Fight and you will be fought, speak and you will be silenced.
Stand and you will be made to fall. He will break you.
In what ever way he can.

Did I choose this incarnation?
beaten, marred, and martyred?
Is it of my own making?
A life betrayed,
Will it all ever be explained?