Forecast

the forecast for today is humiliation mixed with suffering and heavy tears
run home you hoe with lipstick smeared
in his lap and around his groin
all for a couple of coins
on your face is your disgrace
when his manhood he made you taste

the forecast for today is tyranny with chances of promises to be free
now work my land you worthless dog
call me masa! i am your GOD!
send your wife and daughter to my bed
i will reward you with some bread

Unfinished….

I’ve had this partial poem in my drafts for a really long time now and have been unable to finish it. Writer’s block is a bitch -_-

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