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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1867337
A slave speaks of her status.
796


I am a number
they say that I am not worthy of a name
my purpose is service
without them I am insignificant
I am a slave and nothing more
or so they say

I do not agree.

I used to have a name
a life, a true purpose
and I will have it again
the day will come when I rise out of these caverns
and walk through a sunlit field
and on that day I will shout my name to the world
but for now I let them call me by a number
...and whisper Adriane
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