*Fill Her Up*

I wrote this 2 years ago, and it is perhaps my favorite poem/lyric I have ever written. I never blogged it, but I think it is time I did. It is not my best work, but it is a little different from the rest. The last stanza is a recent addition.

Torn, left out in the open,
Morose;
She feels the pain reaching for her hand,
The lights; flickering, blinding her view,
Her status; broken and bent,
The lie in her eyes,
The pain she has been through,
A calm, a wind, the storm
Reaching for her heart,
The pain, the tension
Building within,
Everything taken;
Her freedom, her peace but not her beliefs,
Guided by the hand of God,
But now evil mingles, intertwines
Racing for her thoughts,
Corruption flows,
But it is the world she must overthrow.

Filthy,
Her skin rubbled,
Cuts wide open; blood pouring out,
Silent and left to die in the four by four cage,
Soil fills her wound;
The world turns black,
No light to be seen,
Only the precious darkness surrounds her,
She fights for her life,
She fights in denial,
Beaten; blood spiting out,
To silence her; but she ignores,
Yelling for some more;
She wants anger filling her void,
It is this world she must overthrow.

Abused,
Living with the dirt in the road,
Lights flickering, her eye twitching,
She's thinking of change,
But none shall enter her life,
Now dumped in gasoline,
The president drops a lighted match.

Burnt,
But she left the fuckers with a smile on her face,
Can't take what you can't get,
The idea, the soul, the motivation,
Soon there will be another
Fighting the lines,
Taking pain for a cause,
And soon the truth comes out,
And it is this world she overthrows.