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Image of Sin

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I share my mom’s shame.
How ironic a name
Pearl, a gem, beautiful
This she named me
Ironic if you ask me.
I am the spitting image of her sin,
Beautifully adorned
With scarlet, gold, and lace,
My curls flowing in the wind,
mocking that of her scarlet letter.
She brought it upon herself
I am no demon child,
just her sin nagging her
over and over.
It was her own fault,
For I was just her scarlet letter,
her shame on display.
I was a disease
for all to see.
I did nothing
But be born,
formed in the womb,
full of guilt and shame.
What was I to do?
She tortured me,
I am the image of her sin.
Thanks a lot mom!!





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