I am a pristine soldier that smells like flowers.
A big mouth, a bit too proud.
He decided to take that all away
Within less than an hour.
Strong hands fumbling with my weak self.
Twist, scream, plead, swear, cry.
It doesn't hurt anymore because I can't feel.
Now, everything is alright.
Mother knows best, that's what they say.
But when his hand goes down my pants
She doesn't even realize what's in front of her face.
So I say I can't, you know I can't.
If I'm you and you're me
We're still two different creatures
With the same intentions in life, I hope.
But, you don't know what really hurts.
So I'm falling down the well where
The scarred fingers await me.
I don't have to say a damn thing
Because they know that I am finally free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem