The sickness in the blood
seeps into the smallest bud
on the largest flower.
The power to change cowers
before the inclination to stay the same
and we only range as far as the inner horizon.
The sight arises before our eyes of
a child locked inside her mother's mind.
She's blind, feeling for the door outside
but blocked and confined to the lies
and deceptions she was born to fulfill.
Her will can't overcome her torn conception
of what it means to be killed.
She prays for release and it's not easy
to fill her soul with contentment, but somehow she still
won't budge her convictions quarters of inches
and she defines her role as