poke, prick and scab

Thu, 01/30/2020 - 13:00 -- kholt

Prick, poke and scab

my ears begin to drag

youve tried that shade a million times, Im telling you now its not worth a dime.

you say Im your guinea pig, your testor, your prodigae

but this is not the way Im intended to live

shoved in a cage and pumped full of insulin

poked pricked and scabbed

its all rather sad

I cannot feel my legs, please im beginning to beg

If I could talk I would tell you to please, please just stop

If the birds could sing they would wish for freedom to ring

because we should all be treated the same

6 feet tall, or six inches small, 145 punds to 16 ounces

wether you are small or large we are all animals

hurting, poking and pricking.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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