Misty's Blood

When you have been kicked and punched.

and it seems you can't be brought down further.

people bury you.

You hold out your hand, a beggar,

but like a king they only push your hand away.

Like a king they wear masks of pity and charity,

but sit upon their thrones of privilege and ignore your cries. 

This has been my life:

The bud of a beautiful flower

crushed

stomped

spat on

and given no chance nor room to blossom.

My life has never been a bed of roses, but a bed of thorns.

I've been given gifts of deceit, betrayal, and pain-

never roses.

My dreams are scattered like the 

body parts of the victim of a 

merciless murderer 

the victim of 

abusers

rapists 

cheaters

pedophiles

thieves of life

My name is Misty and this is my story, 

but we all sing the Misty blues. 

My blues led to red- Misty's blood.

Copyright © 2009 by Sincerly Yours