Next Time

I borrow my body from men 
Keep her aside a little while 
Bathe her limbs in milk 
Encourage back a smile 

Tell her next time they won’t be so rough
Next time she won’t have to be so tough 

That somewhere in the forest of fear 
A sweet lily awaits 
Past the chandelier of switches 
Nestled on the floor
Is a gentle, pure and thoughtful flower
One that won’t hurt her anymore 
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