You gave me hands so you
could tell me to keep them
where you could see them.
You gave me wings so you
could tell people to gather around,
come together to see how beautiful
and scarce the wings you bought were.

You gave me three legs so you
could tie a chain on one,
an electronic monitoring anklet on the second,
and a diamond anklet on the third.

You gave me life so I could live,
but not me,
for you.
You gave me life at day,
so you could kill me
as soon as the skies turned grey.