What says the world about my pride
When what I am is a maid madebride?
Just for my fingers to befriend hot pots
And at early dusk, face my master's torts
I blow airless breath in the kitchen hearth
To make sure my master's womb isn't dearth
All I deserve, having served on his bed,
Is manful blows that shred my head
My master says: I am not a perfect human
If not a woman who makes man a man?
I am stronger; my woes are in my weakness
My admired softness herbs your sickness
I am always for better and unsaid worse
Even to worst man who rides me like a horse
Born for him, chased, possessed and lustfully kept
For honourable drunkards who are wholly rapt
Can you or you tell me what my pride is
When I am asked to shut up and never hiss
By my man who I lay for and lay food for
Who sees the dignity I hid for long afore
Hear me clearly, you are not any superior
To every world self-conceited emperor
I am not a slave nor servant but your wife
Stop making earth seems miserable to live a life
You are only afraid that I am much better
Why you defeat my heart with your banter
The flawlessness seen in my shiny beauty
Makes you find flaws in my lovable sanity
May Judge forgive every lowly courts judge
Who in in their lowly one-eyed knowledge
Say Sheila shan't stand as ennoble surety
For any suit, because, she is too faulty.
Maître Jammy
©laliepearl
L