Choice

It's mine to make

By Tinka Boudit She/HerPublished about a year ago • 1 min read

There always were so many, Until there was one,

And in that illusion, There were truly none.

Over my body living I do what I please,

Then liberty taken and puts me to my knees.

Made once and wanting, better I knew naught,

Anger spoken and revolution we sought.

First we stand, then run, then fly, we go.

You cannot take this from me, you cannot tell me no.

This scar upon me, It scared me it was true,

"If you ever aborted my baby, I promise I would kill you."

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