Can You Spell Oppression?

Numb gnawing on another conversation,
my body aching from all the words I've said
and you have forced back down my throat.

The verbal kicking just carries on,
the literal kicking always soon to follow.

Silly me, to believe I am allowed my flaws and
these provocative make-believe friends,
even though I am not allowed pity.

The k-i-c-k-i-n-g just carries on.

I have never tasted blood that wasn't mine,
I have never put my opinions in my fists
still the way I am to be defeated is with
foot against face, knuckles against teeth?

Truly, what a monster I am,
the only one accepting that what's going on
I hate the way you've crippled my opinions
the way you've broken my will and inspiration,
but if I speak up, give my point of view,

Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 842 times
Written on 2007-05-11 at 20:03

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I love "I never put my opinions in my fists."
I hope this poem does not describe your situation, if so, I know that you have the strength somewhere to move on.
There is a fine line between compliance and forebearance.