I pray
I pray for death’s cold finger
To touch the shallow shells of my master’s frame
Not entirely so that he may linger
And share in my immortal shame
An experience so unkind
That fatality appears as a sweet release.
I pray for the day my dignity agrees to return
The day I can gaze into the mirror and smile
Instead of seeing a visage that makes my bowels churn
Because of the cruelty in my life I’ve allowed to pile
I pray for shame, confusion, pain and illusions
To forever forsake me and not become my perpetual companions.
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