Creation
I was made from moving parts
Bolts and wires and such
There were no daisies and sweet smells
In my creation
as I was made from harsh reality's that were yet to be discovered
They built me from the oppression that minority's had faced
But filled me with the privilege that some were lucky to receive
My head was compiled of knowledge
only based on the things
they thought would fulfill their darkest desires
I was taught to hide myself live alone in my misery
I was a creation built for their pleasure
without
a mind of my own Unloved
uncaring without a home but I was a creation
