Mule (Mature Content)
by Tyler Joseph Wiseman
Friday, November 07, 2003
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They took me as the slave,
only 13, walking home
from Castillero, a man
told me he knew my mommy
and was to give me a ride
They took me far away,
past the border, and let
men with dirty things touch me
in between my special place,
giving every kind of disgrace
I saw a poet in San Francisco,
who read a world of beauty to me,
I told him of the terrible things
and said I still wasn't free
then walking away to my duty
It's the only thing I know,
to whore and transport,
I get money to live on my habits
They won't let me go
and I don't know how to escape
Now I cross the border again,
to give filthy things to nasty people
to hold onto to slow sicknesses
and do my master's bidding
for the people who taught me everything
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|Reviewed by Richard Vallance (Reader)
Woah, this is wild, Tyler!
You certainly don't mince words!
Whew, you knocked the breath quite clear of me (and that takes some doing, eh?)
|Reviewed by Tyler Wiseman
Jeremy, not quite sure what the typo you are talking about. It's all properly spelled...
|Reviewed by Jeremy Vaeni
|This is a great human face on a savage human filth. Great, in that it is understated and saddly innocent. (I think there's a typo here unless I'm reading it wrong: "to hold onto to slow sicknesses")|
|Reviewed by Zenith Elliott
|Just one of many painful truths in this sometimes cruel world! Well penned, Tyler...~Z~|
|Reviewed by Kate Clifford
|A shock of reality for some. Great write!|
|Reviewed by Jeff Mason
|Very deep; profound! Our demons often remain with us for a lifetime.|