There is a black soul in everyone,
If only we could avoid them,
We could live a happier life,
Some of us are slaves in being a wife,
When we want to be free,
The people we love cannot see,
If only they knew what we thought,
Then maybe we wouldn't be sold and bought,
Our lives are like a golden stream,
Even though what they are may not seem,
Some may seem to care,
If they do why do they stand and stare,
Do they like who you are,
Or is it because they live so far,
Some may care more than others,
We know we love our mothers,
If blood is so sad and red,
Why do some of us wish others were dead,
If some of us do not fear death,
Why are they so scared to take their last breath.