All my life my hands have been cold,
And my eyes have never been seen.
My voice has been stolen from a heart that was broken,
And my mind has never been keen.
All my life my feet have been bare,
And my lips have never been known.
My thoughts have been seized by a monotonous tease,
And my character then turned to stone.
All my life my face has been pale,
And my fingers have never felt lace.
My ankles were bound from the pride so profound,
And my emotions had then no case.
All my life my ears were weak,
And my senses related no care.
My wrists were tied by the woman who lied,
and my love was too much to bear.
All my life my screams have been high,
But my words were always ignored.
My tongue was cut, not from who or what,
But by teeth that had eaten this lore.
All my life my body was thrown,
But my mind was ironically kept.
My cries were shot, and I never had got,
Comfort from the many tears I wept.
All my life I have lived in shame,
Of the reflection I bare, and in this endless blame,
In the way she danced and the way she lied,
In her addictions of pain and infinite tries.
All my life I have loved her the same,
Yet my hatred and hurt all rapidly came,
Like the way she danced and the way she lied,
In the name of her daughter's suicide.
