Brought up by the stain of my surnames identity
I wiped away my face to see the mask of my vulnerability
I scrounged up the pieces to make this body whole
So, does this body still seem deficient like its told?
Repetition of mistakes, my benevolence believes
Brought up by love but then left to just leave
like the horizons where too distant for me to reach
thus, I pose pondering whats easy to achieve
Not because ambitions were little and in between
but because the sea bed was given the name beauty queen
Something no one else sees is known to be prettier then me
So, I'm left to subjection, my minds yearning to plead
*I wasn't born with any sliver spoon in my mouth*