My muse’s secret poem

The burning poem it’s words burn like flame
I hold it my heart but it burns all the same
I tried ridding myself of the fire
But the flames spoke to me of my muse
Aspiring me to choose
To love and lose the game
Loves painful consequence
My hidden shame
In desperate longing the poem was a light
Showing me a door and a key
Life is nothing with responsibility
In darkness of fragility
I hear a voice beckoning me
To hide my muse’s secret
and yet it flows through me like the fiery flames
I try to retain the pain and burning
My heart is alight with yearning
So with the key I lock the secret poem in a room
It stills burns shining with the truth
Yet I feel I have hidden a fragment of my soul
That still burns to this day out of control.

Objectification

Objectification

You were a girl with average ambition
Now your 17 every mans wet dream
Beautiful object
Human trophy
Men want to possess you
To Caress you
elope with you
Grope you
Forget about your personality
It’s of no use
We seek to abuse you
Another Barbie doll
We ignore your soul
Your heart your intellect
We have no respect
For you 
Take off your clothes
Barbie 
Groomed or doomed to be a trophy wife
Tenderness a Prince Charming
Only comes with pain and harming
why can’t people look beyond the face
and the body?
Why can’t we see the soul?