Don’t you dare take credit for me,
Not even my mother has that audacity,
And yet she bore me into her arms,
I dragged myself through hellfire,
Cried, screamed and howled at the pain,
Still finding times to laugh in the ruins,
The only thing you’re guilty of –
Is trying to strip me of my power,
Turn me into a puppet of your creation,
Devoid of all life and miserable to the core.
I’m just glad I had the sense to say no,
To run into the wood and into the night,
And reclaim what is rightfully mine.