Take pictures, I’ll smile for you,
Pose my hands, I’ll bow for you,
Move my lips, I’ll sing for you.
..
…
Hit my ***, I’ll wince for you,
Squeeze my breast, I’ll gasp for you,
Punch my stomach, I’ll cry for you,
Sell my body, I'll die for you.

I was born in the age of the struggle
Trying to become something in a world my kind was not accepted
Constantly dodging bullets that the white man seemed to have an infinite amount of
As the corrupt turned a blind eye unofficially proclaiming my kind irrelevant
All because my skin is not as white as the North Pole
All because before I was born I was labeled incompetent
Unable to do anything other than picking cotton in the blazing heat
Destined to be the white man's little *****
Being blamed for everything even though we can't do anything
Taken from my home against my will
Thinking about the tears my little girl now sheds as she was bend over on all fours
I was born in the age of the struggle
But my struggle is one that never went down in history
All because I am nothing more than a wild beast
Even though I had life that was stolen from me

she was known as the slave of heart
pretty young girl that just found new love
she was blinded by it
she could not even see it

it was always him over everything
him over everyone else
worst of all it was him over herself
she was the slave of heart
  
she did not see it coming
cupid payed it so well
she got her tiny heart broken
and she still loves him

nothing has changed
she has ignored the pain
all she wants its her bae
because she is the slave of heart

I've fed this dragon long enough
its scales grown ragged, dark, and rough
I told myself it was quite tame
but in my ear it whispers blame
Holes in my heart his talons tore
red and raw
the wounds are sore
Starved to death proved to be tough
it is so fun to feed it fluff
I'm much too old to play this game
I'm sick of all the serpent's shame
The demon's dead down to its core
and cannot hurt me anymore

At the end of the day, they will look for the worst version of you.
Good actions will be overlooked, and you will be taken for granted.
They will dig your soul for whatever it is they consider as dirt.
They will make you feel as if there is something wrong with you.
And you—you ask yourself what should be done.

You have not one, but two options.
Either you fight and go against the current,
Or become a slave of their judgments.

If you fight, expect that there will be more coming;
every stench of your soul will be revealed
and they will not stop
until they have dragged you down

And if you become a slave of their judgments,
you might think you are in peace;
But contrary to this, you have a bigger enemy.
Yourself.