good girls
What were you thinking when you brought me home?
That I'd look good in the living room?  Like the rug..
That like the rug I could be taken out the door and shaken
So I'd fluff up really nice to put on show?

All the sofas, stands and tables that came because the neighbors
had this or that you couldn't live without.
So when the next came cooing over a second baby brewing
You just had to go and get yourself the same.

Like a show dog I was groomed, manipulated and fine tuned
So that I knew what was important and what was not.
Bad girls go to places where they have to live their days out
being beaten, starved and eaten. by evil people that society forgot.

Good girls mind their mothers and never question what they say
Good girls stay indoors and learn to appropriately behave
Good girls can be bad girls if their mothers whim dictates it
Good girls learn to be their mothers slave.

Good girls understand that the back of Daddy's hand
knocks you clear across a room for your own good.
And good girls know that mothers do not like them telling others
That the bruises came from asking for more food.

A good girl takes a beating and though bruised and hurt and bleeding
Smiles pleasant and  polite when the neighbors come to call.
And if questions do arise about the swelling 'round her eyes
She will recite the scripted story of a fall.

Eight years old, and I believed all the abuse that I received
Was because I was so worthless, such a burden, such a chore
In the kitchen doing dishes and if only God heard wishes
I wouldn't have to wait ten years to leave it all



                                                          
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