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