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Jul 2023
Her mother lied, spun the horror of reality into a beautiful tale,
Of perfection and grandeur, painted calm from storm and hail
She always whispered, "My princess, you're beyond compare,
With a big heart like yours, love will always be there."

But lies dripped from her lips, painting a mirage,
A portrait of non existent affection, like a flickering collage.
She claimed that men would **** for eyes that bright,
While truth hid beneath the surface shrouded in night.

Her mother lied that men would scramble for the warmth in her arms,
that her smooth and silky hair carried with it fairy charms
She blinded her to the grotesque of reality she had seen
and masked her from the sweet stench of where she had been

Her mother told her that hips like hers made men want to stay
that the man for her wouldn't show up just for a roll in the hay
her mother showed her how ugly she looked with a frown
that her smile was for a queen, and she should never let go of that crown...

the only truth her mother told her was to forever be down to earth
and to never ever let anything or anyone undervalue her worth
for whatever life would turn out to be years later
She would always remain her mother's daughter....
Ignatius Hosiana
Written by
Ignatius Hosiana  30/M/Kampala-Uganda
(30/M/Kampala-Uganda)   
525
       Anais Vionet, kim and Weeping willow
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