In a little church, where faithful ones
Are praying everyday for mercy
Then teaching it to their daughters and sons,
Whereof repentance they're always thirsty

In a little church, two famous ushers
Led everyone with smiles and vows
Nose powders and cheek blushers
Are flaking away, then drifting to the clouds

"Good morning, good Sunday!
Blessed shall be your family
All are welcomed here to pray!"
They'll be guided  to their seats, calmly

Yet, for one woman of color
They would never ever smile
They will hide her from father's collar
In the corner, behind the last aisle.

Nonetheless, she'd come all Sundays,
With the bravest faith of all
That one day, they'd change their ways,
They'll learn the truth, beginning small…

In a little church, a young child
Observed all this and had enough
With bare feet and eyes wild,
She went and tugged the woman's cuff

She said to her: "Don't be afraid,
Trust me, this world is gonna change!"
And then a promise she had made
"You'll never have to feel that strange!

You'll feel included, you won't be judged
I'll take you to the best of seats
You'd be listened to and always loved
You'll get to know only good deeds.

I'll raise my kids to be always kind
And never rush to judgment
To love thy neighbor and to find
Ways to observe true faith in many!"

That young child, had wings unseen
As all gasped, hearing her speech
They wondered where their hearts  have been
And how a child their minds can teach.

In a little church, two humbled ushers
Led everyone with smiles and vows
Nose powders and cheek blushers
Are flaking away, then drifting to the  clouds...

In another world,
With trees of gold,
Would we have lived
On the same street?

Seldom, I wonder,
Would we have been
Born across each other,
Sharing the same gene?

Would you have  looked,
Outside of your window,
And instantly be spooked
To see, in front, a mirror?

No, it is not a mirror, that you see,
It's actually a window
And that girl, is me
Sitting on a pillow

I, like you, stay hours at my desk
With my favorite pen in hand
All is a bit Kafkaesque
And just like you,I like my tea fanned.

My fangs grew overnight
And when I tried to hide my smile
It poked my lower lip
From it, a bit of blood dripped,
It tasted sweet.

I walked over arched bridges at night
The ones, that mold around the moon light,
My fangs were longing for a match
To graze your lips, your mouth to touch.
On you, to latch.

The knock woke me from my deep sleep,
I heard some kids say trick or treat,
I realized it's Halloween!
I gathered candy from under my couch
I didn't need my plastic fangs
I had my own and the costume matched.

each & every memory of you fulfills my heart but hurts it too