A new poem about the Chosen People

I'm interested in how being abused becomes a pattern that gets handed down to following generations. And the way in which it distorts one's sense of who one is. I know this poem may offend many- but it is just what came.

 Daddy-God

We were singled out

And told we were special.

Always Special – no matter how it hurt.

We were the Ones.

You never lose that, you know,

When Daddy comes to you in the middle of the night

And teaches you special things –

You know you are Chosen.

When they choose you for pain,

You know you are unique.

That so commonplace act

Is your sign and badge.

This planet is soaked in the blood

Of mass graves and holocausts.

But for us, it is who we are,

We and Daddy-God at-one.

We wail our lamentations

And are thrilled to the bones.

It is the bitter herb

That feeds our souls.

Only we, among the slaughtered millions,

Know that this is our Special Destiny.

We were promised, no matter how he hurts us,

We are blessed among nations.

Turn your eyes from the others.

The lessons learned are not about them.

Hate us! Smear the walls of our temples.

We are Chosen – always us.