Livia Lynch

August 12, 1991 - Romania
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Be the hunter, not the hunted

You may have clipped my wings,
You may have poisoned my veins.
You may have destroyed my womb,
You may have taken security away from me.
You looked me in the eyes
With your cold smile
And dared to tell me that’s
How a father loves his child.
Your sex was the bottle,
Do you remember, father?

You may have tried to kill me,
You may have tried to silence me.
But you did nothing of the sort.
I am a survivor,
See me soar.
With all the women behind me,
Walking in the same yelling footsteps
With all the children behind me,
Holding the world on our burdened shoulders.
I am in everything, with love.
So who won in the end?
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