Trojan Horse

It's not dying we fear;
it's living with the fear.
Every slap, every kick, every degrading remark...
physical scars heal. But
words aren't just words.
They're what we hear when you're not around.
Rearranging our DNA.
Reprogramming the code of all we know.
Turning us mute like a robot servant.
We become the silent you,
breaking ourselves down internally
until all we have left is a battered body
that struggles to think for itself.
We're your Trojan Horse. And
we'll fight anything but you
because we lack the will to battle
even with ourselves.
We know you won't stop;
you can dress us up, or
feed us well, or say you're sorry,
but the flowchart always points back to your control.
If we can't say something,
we never will.
If not now, then when?
When it's too late?
When the lust for more power
is too weighty to overcome?
How much is too much?
Where do we draw the line,
and when can we finally stop
fearing it'll happen again?
Our silence is suicide
to complacency's murder.
We do not have to fear the living afterwards
when we finally make our voices heard.

(Line count: 35 lines.)