The sagging of her shoulders and delay of her footsteps showed what her voice would not,
Because her mother told her that complaining is for the weak,
That she has never and will never bear a weak child.
His words come out of his mouth like sweet sticky nectar,
But he can't mingle with the butterflies he attracts,
Because his brother told him that butterflies are for girls.
Because her mother told her that complaining is for the weak,
That she has never and will never bear a weak child.
His words come out of his mouth like sweet sticky nectar,
But he can't mingle with the butterflies he attracts,
Because his brother told him that butterflies are for girls.
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