We are the refused...

Barefoot in the marketplace
Born in the backseat
With minds erased
To hide dirt in the backstreets
And mud on the school steps

The fool in the textbook
Paints us inept
Tainted
******
Illicit natives
Miserable Misfits
Nothing the magistrates can't handle

OH!!!
They wish!
Suppress our melodies
But never break our lips

We are the misused...

Our eyes do penetrate
Every false-flag they perpetuate
Even though barbiturates
Are placed beneath our pillows
The shame billows
The shame follows
Rodents to the edge of the borough
Where men create addicts

There
Publicans turn
Badges burn
Magistrates press their shirts and hatch their eagles
Discernment is not taught
Nor is it learned

We are the obtuse...

Blacked out and abused!
Sold for pulpits and ocean views

Magistrates hate us
Their eagles circle to berate us
"Intolerant"
"Outdated"
"Unpatriotic"
"Ill-fated"

But by grace we persevere
By faith we adhere
To a higher truth
A purer view
Our strongholds are not stick
and stone
Chrome nor drone
But
Christ alone
Our strength and hope
Out hope for home

NOT polls and popes
NOT guns and votes
NOT Magistrates  and lazy legislations
NOT eagles which feed on
Desensitized demonstrations
Police brutality and assassinations
Nomadic nations
Sporadic speculations

We
The Refused
We
The Misused
We
The Obtuse
Will NOT cosign evil
Will NOT massage magistrates
Will NOT elevate eagles
We will NOT
We must NOT

Along with the lonely stroll
In the ocean of broken hearts,
And deep, lovingly desires,
You stumbled upon mine.

Yet in the tiniest span of time,
You embraced it tight, and
kissed to see if it smiled.
It took time, but did smile.

Dark, was the way to love,
and as scary was the nights,
Yet, they held hands, And
soon, stepped into the light.

Her curved smile patched
his scarred heart, while
his pen bled ink, and
the scars spelled poetry ...

to the girl who takes words out of people's minds
who speaks in metaphors, touches thousands of hearts
to the girl who aches for her prince to find
her poetry where it bled in the sea of rose quartz

to the girl who lived for two decades today
to the one who loves to the moon, back and around
the one who sits at the back of the cafe
writing for people whom she surrounds

happiest birthday my dear mermaid of poetry
you've been staying strong for twenty years now
it takes time to be the great person you want to be
you just have to keep your head unbowed

and things may be hard, may be tougher than this
and deadlines will keep trying to break you down
when the time comes you think you won't ever experience bliss
remember you're a mermaid, you can never drown

you've already been living for 7,300 days
eighty season changes in mermaid's time
you have survived all that crazy life chase
i think, my darling, you will be fine.

You waited for the storm in my eyes to pass
and wreck someone else’s home for a change
you waited
ever so patiently
until it became a routine chore
but if you had looked up for more than a second
you would have realised that
Winter raised me
**I am the storm.

Our love is like a microwave
We nonchalantly recognize its presence   And we happily utilize it everyday
Yet we rarely sit and ogle upon the magic it contrives.
The beguiling beauty of the zappy microwave.

All the secrets in your head
you say they're better left unsaid
but if you dared to let another know
a weight will lift and your strength will show