Forgive me my captors.
My mind has only created.
I see now my sin.
That I deserved my punishments,
my knowledge,
my blessings.
People don't always see me,
but they know that I've cried.
They can see the pain in my
make-up, dress, and skin.
I've tried to give that up so many times.
Something that's become a part of me.
I wonder, "Why should I try?"
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