And I cried.
I cried because the world was an evil beast.
His legs were gossipers- powerful and strong,
Flaring and raring as they impressed the throng;
Kicking me down and stomping my tongue,
Mashing my dreams and smashing my hopes for his hearty feast.
His arms lugged fists built to inflict pain.
These arms were the people who called me insane
Who demolished my shelter and left me in the rain
Who pierced my chest and ripped my heart and marked me as the least.
His eyes were blazing and purposed to burn
These eyes set fire to my desire to learn
My spirit is trapped in a gold-coated urn
In this he delights; as my troubles are his bread and my tears are the yeast.