Shadows
“When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.”
– Lauren Edens
born to the purple
no one to guide or support
love sought cold comfort
in all that surrounds
pushed aside by family
a need for parental touch
assuaged by those captive outsiders paid to placate
thin pitiful whines
yes, born well to the purple
all desired shackled within tacky satin
ribbons and gilded exchequers with coveted
foul purse strings
serrated hearts, cutting tongues
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