Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2017
A woman's life is full of men.
They each see her as a prize.

A thing to touch and maybe hold.
Not intelligent. Not wise.

I am an object to you.
Walking ******* and skin.

You only think of what to say.
In the chance I might let you in.

My thoughts are deep
and my emotions pure
I have no time for boy games anymore.

My heart is full of pent up rage
Because I am an object to you.
Can't you see that the truth is...

You are an object to me too.
Artistry
Written by
Artistry  F/Texas
(F/Texas)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems