I find myself thinking about them,
My family and those who misbehave.
They are like a shinning gem
Stained with blood at which we gave.

My title is there for them to burst.
Each role is different for me and my kin.
The slut, the weak, the witch, the first, 
And then there’s the favorite who cries within.

The weak was the one they thought they could trust, 
His love for his wife had clouded his creed.
The witch is the one who’s covered in dust,
She lured him in with words of greed.

The favorite is the one who smiled a birth,
Their love for ### burned like fire.
## questioned their love and even ### worth,
So ### betrayed their trust with unhealthy desire.

The first is the one who halted their world,
Her face and person were of everything they could dream.
She hid her thoughts but soon they unfurled,
And she showed herself and her rotting scheme.

The slut is the one who seduced her own.
They thought they could love her and all her flaws.
Even when she said stop they should’ve known
She’d tear at his back with her dirty claws. 

I find myself thinking about them,
My family and those who misbehave.
They are like a shinning gem
Stained with blood at which we gave.

Soon they’ll see, as I walk through life,
My title is not for them to give,
To carve my words with a steel knife.
My kin and I, we choose to live.