What Have you Engraved on my Palm

I can see myself crawling;

With broken bones,

My mouth is drooling.

I am the one in the corner.

Filth covers my hands.

Mucus, my eyes.

Never will it wear off.

I knew this would come,

with the stagnant pond

In which I was born

The chains of spirituality [and status quo]

Were clung deep in my heart.

My belly needs food,

My feet need shoes.

[I know you aren't wearing no shoes either but it is your own choice]

My hands need something lush to hold,

So let me break away;

From the ties of helplessness,

From this web of fate:

That you have engraved on my palm.

I hate to be what I am.

I don't want to be you either.

I want to be what I can be;

What I was meant to be.

Let go of my hands,

Let me be free.