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Ines Rose Jan 2017
Who are you
To assume
That you are capable
Of escaping
The inescapable?
Mother's white-washed
Nourishment, propaganda teet
A taste
Acquired early,
Now it's all you can eat.
Nestled in protagonism,
Coddled by media,
Limited brains were
Your encyclopedia.
College wakes you
"Even my Mother is blind"
and you wonder how it was you lost your mind?
For the sociopathic narcissist
Ines Rose Jan 2017
I called on the wind
Maman would have had a fit
I called for the wind by name.

I asked her today
Please sing my song to the world
and just like my hair she curled

Noisy spirals, like
lunar periods tidal.
The wind spoke in mania

She's shouting, howling.
A drunk Father passing through
A scared Mother beating you

Momentarily
Wind made me god, and I was
bigger than I ever knew

I am powerful
and destructive, tormented
still by being invented

Then manifested
in earthly form as human
ever striving for balance

When inside of me
Equity had been replaced
Now anger stood in its place

Personified, I'm
Refocusing my compass.
But to where do I set course,

What is my purpose?
Concerned with Identity
To seek out Serenity
*god isn't capitalized on purpose
*every other stanza rhymes to juxtapose order and chaos
*5/7/7 syllable structure

— The End —