Real tough
I was like a baby chick
Only following orders
My voice was sick
Heavy with the weight of my disorders
I listened with no questions
The adults were always right
Always following the suggestions
Never putting up a fight
But one day I cracked
There was just no holding back
All lies and no fact
I had a new angle of attack
With each push, I was tripped
No talking back I was told
I had to follow the script
My silence was gold
But that didn’t stop me
And I grew real tough
I was bringing down the queen bee
Enough was enough
I was done with being weak
So I learned to speak
👁 8💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.