Brook Lynn Dorcent
2 min readJan 19, 2021

You don’t know me,

for if you did, you wouldn’t try to control me.

You wouldn’t try to put these chains on my wrists and feet.

I almost feel sorry for you,

You don’t know, that I can’t be contained.

You don’t know my spirit, you hear it, it’s speaking loudly.

But over your selfish gain, you can’t hear it, you speak too proudly.

Thinking you’ve changed my name, for your personal gain.

No, my name is not what you say it is, you can’t define my character.

You can’t tell me where to sit, the front or the back of the bus.

No, that’s just rust, decay, and disgust.

I can’t be controlled, in fact, you don’t have the power to unfold.

Yes, you try to mold, to beat me into the dust.

You can’t have my soul, so you destroy my body, with rape before I’m five years old.

But I continue to lift my eyes to the hills and I ain’t takin no more pills…

Although my body is broken, it’s okay, because it’s merely just a token.

The essence of who I am doesn’t come from you.



Brook Lynn Dorcent

Brook Lynn is a novelist and lover of story creation. A firm believer that authentic connection comes alive when we share our stories. She is driven to write.