poems

Poem 3.

So, having a bit of a bad day… but I wrote a poem from it. What do you think??

To be sold is a pain I could never explain.
Its a pain that has no words.
These words could never touch the feeling of utter worthlessness that comes with being shown you can be sold for a price.
Your body is currency.
You are the price.
You are worth nothing.
Your soul isn’t worth a thing.
Your just currency.
You are worthless.
No words can accurately describe the pain I hide.
No words can accurately describe the worthlessness that comes with being sold.
This is a pain I hope you never know.

Thank you for reading.

©️ 2020

1 thought on “Poem 3.”

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