Stereotype
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Who is she?
What is she?
Shall I even say "she"?
Rid of the needle and ink she did.
Sitting on a chilled shelf
Collecting dust.
They must have heard her piercing scream
And saw the scar that was left,
When she sliced off the barcode
That once sizzled on her skin
Amidst the branding
By them.
Guide that inspired this poem: