How do you suppose to make me see.
All you wanted was for me to be.
All you wanted me to speak.
What respect? I never recieved.
The secrets you keeped from from me.
The bruises and pain that weekend my knees.
Until I respected myself to finally leave.
You were right all along.I knew I was weak.
Respect, is what I have achieved.
All on my own!
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Comments about this poem ('Respect' by GloriaC Gonzales )
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