Away in the Dormitory, my torments were much less
The occassional kerfuffle was all but common for a 12 year old
But then the wretched bane of a father, had finally met his maker
My life had to be, a runner severed at his Achilles
My run had to be a limp, in a constatnt state of drudgery
The other tormenter in command, was my only company
While the Deccan Queen would pass by, every evening at six
If you should know, the eyes can bleed some times when pressed
And a child could be punished over and over for old errors
I thank my stars for today I can stand for hours like a chair
As a fourteen year old, it hurts like a knife through flesh
I have such beautiful tattoos, I seem to have wilfully gotten
Gifted absolutely joyously free and over and over again
Today when my tormentor asks for my forgiveness
I have to remind her, that child in me had died back then
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