Since day one 

there has been no control. 

Or voice, only a chain

wrapped tight around my neck. 

Shackles that bind my hands, keep from feeling feelings.

I speak and the voice of my mother is heard

and her mother

and her mother. Who am I? 

I have no name, no face, no freedom.

Be true to myself brings disappointment,

brings disapproval, brings dishonor.

Who am I? 

I try to speak, my mothers voice is heard

and her mother,

and her mother.

The shackles grow heavier, tighter

the chain around my neck loops once more and I am at my mothers feet.

Who am I?

I have no name, no face, no freedom.

I speak and it is my mother.