Extremely Sad Childhood Memory
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Cold, damp in the seat of my pants;
The steel chair is unyielding. It absorbs nothing!
I must hide. There is time, if I am quick.
But I am truly soaked!
Oh how I hate this place! Why has that old man put me here? Where is my mom?
And how I hate that part of me
that others seem to love;
ebbing, flowing, soaking me in filth!
What horror is this little tube and those who seek it?
They see now! They are mad with hate! They laugh; the girl and boy whom I ran to laugh at me. I love them and I have failed.
But silence! I am not so young that I cannot name rot.
Though I stand here soaked in my own piss,
Still I know who made me.
Do you?
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Are you a performer?
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@dhromed said:
Are you a performer?
Do you mean someone who acts, dances, etc.? If so, then my answer is no. I've never done anything like that.
