I am knocked down much too often
It is necessary to tear me spiritless
You take everything from me in just one oppress
the words of condescension spill out of your mouth
You put this upon me, this abashment
And for the pure pleasure of rendering me uncouth
The only ability of sympathy you have
is for solely yourself
And you will not recollect
What severity you have done to me
For the remembrance
is only for the one who receives the "gift"
because in the end you, the giver, won't recall
that you had forced down my throat
the food of inferiority
