Monitoring Manners

When you told me you loved me
I believed you
My heart sang
Songs of truth
Freedom
And affirmation
Now I'm lost again
Feeling abandoned
Undeserving
And unhappy
My dreams continue to perish
Like drops of blood
Upon the filthy rats
I'm at my wit's end
How many times did I hear it?
The nursery rhyme at my mother's feet
Summoning some power
Deep within
Changing
Prophecies  must do their bidding
So I can survive.