Modern Ms Baker

What does it feel like when they crave your blood?

Put you on a pedestal, make you our thug
To purposely maim is to purposely kill
And to destroy

So why is it when your body hits the casket with a thud
Your reputation is thrown to the mud

Why is it when you knock on death’s door like they asked they forget what it is like to truly bring a thug to task

A piece of lasting entertainment
A piece of ass

What mess they make of feminism
What they bloody have the cheek to ask

To be perfect in all the ways a man
Without risking a bit of sass

No room for doubt, no doubt.

Your slip will begin to show
But hey, that’s all they want and that’s all they care to know

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