the plain dealer

i have no voice.
my words,
spoken for my sanctity
of mind and body
are ignored;
in protest of others' mistakes
and questions.
i have no soul within me,
no deep faith
in the Nativity
of Our Virgin and Lord -
and even the sacredness of marriage
is but a cruel joke
played by a pimp
who has my number and address
calling on me
displaying his snake pit of vice
and control.
there is truly nothingness
on this empty road ahead of me
like a nincompoop,
i travel in exile
through Foulk - Stapleford
escaping the wrath
of those who doubt
i ever did.