Livestock by Merryn Juliette

I am not a silent poet

Refuge

what refuge

is there any

for these broken children

for these babes of babes

that don’t even own their flesh

and the young ones sold as livestock

with bruises brailled on their thin frail bodies

And god help the ones that get their mother’s beauty

they’ll be multi traded, many used, dead too soon

Livestock

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