Don’t be quick to wish you want to be in my shoes,
You want the fancy clothes which cover my hidden bruise,
You only see the pure gold he put on my hand,
Not the violent gusty cold winds from the breath of my man,
Be careful,
Be careful,
Be careful what you wish,
Beware of the looks of the inviting dish,
All you see is my price tag,
Not the life in this violently silent bag,
Now I invite you,
Come take my things and give me your freedom,
Come take my silence and give me your voice,
Liberate me and make your wish come true.
Brussels © April 2015 afesehngwaHilary
