Stockholm Syndrome

An uneven deal;
A mismatch, a fail;
A gamble I knew I’d lose,
From the very beginning,
Of the game.

I tried to run away,
As far as I could;
As fast as my legs would,
But he still caught me, and stole
Everything that I kept,
Hidden and locked away.

Demand and demand,
For ransom and payment,
For all the debts,
I don’t even recall having.

Command and command,
One word and I’ll follow,
Like the servant that I am.

He abuses and hurts
Me, with whips and with stones;
Pushing me on the edge,
Of a cliff with no end.

But why can’t I get
Myself to escape,
When he doesn’t keep watch
Of the door every night?

I stay right beside,
Like a battered loyal dog,
With blood dripping
From my lips;
Filling my mouth
With the bitter taste,
Of metallic blood.

I stay right beside,
Like a fool with a heart;
I fell in love with my captor,
Oh, what a fool I am!

I forgive him and make excuses;
Loving him with every hit I take,
Mending his heart and trying
In vain, to understand a total
Psychopath.

Wishing he’d come to see,
And even maybe love me,
For staying beside,
Without a word of complaint,
And a try of escape.

But a fool I really am,
For he will never see,
Beyond a mirror he looks,
At every minute,
Of every day.

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