Amaryllis beauty left hid away
with bleak existence day after day.
Searching for the beauty that filled my dreams;
like golden arched laughs on twinkling sun beams.

I cut the fork in the road, left casually my blood it begins to flow.
Bleeding down into the ground Ive sowed,
wishing now my time was owned.

But as I look down at the past
I begin to see how hope trickles fast.

For In the ground a flower bloomed
blood rose as the rest.
Subtle with its deadly perfume
It's beauty as pink as breast.

For the love it gives with subtle hues
Always remind me of you.

God is just a metaphor
for something we're all searching for.
Her god loves, his god fights,
your god kept me up at night. (Just like his mother Mary)
Subjective gods, subjection lies.
                        I see through his selective eyes.

I don't speak to people who say nothin at all.
Voices laced with grace, no sincerity just *****.

To me sleep is sacred
          a time where we all die.
                         I didn't feel His presence,
                                               I knew only mine.

What are we teaching?
Who are we reaching?
What have we taught today?
Buy him a toy gun
Looks like a real one
Who have they fought at play?

Cowboys and Indians
Act like the real ones
At least like we saw on TV.
Cowboys the good guys,
Indians the bad guys.
Perfect authenticity.

White folks meant no harm
Just came there to farm
Four thousand years of land.
They had no papers
Really invaders
Things just got out of hand.

A clash of two cultures
Then food for the vultures
Everyone thought they were right.
But in the long run
Law made decisions
All in favor of the whites.

Words were encouraged
Dignity disparaged
White people called them savage
Due no respecting
And fit for just killing
Then plenty of land they could ravage.

Textbooks got altered,
The ministry faltered;
Heathens deserve what they get.
Jesus cherished the meek
But whites turned no cheek.
They haven’t quite fixed things yet.

What are we teaching?
Who are we reaching?
What have we taught today?
Children play death games,
Who can we all blame?
Are there no other games to play?

Sometimes it can be hard to know her skin

the way she likes to hide

and never let somebody in.



But even so she's like roses,

and their fallen petals 

floating in the wind.



Caught in the zephyr,

my hands stretched to their limit;

and even with the tightest grip, 

they still slip through my fingers.

Interlaced the same stem,

Woman to woman

That old teenage *******.



Red lipstick smeared across our face, 

Her laughter in my mouth,

and God I love the way it tastes.

You are angry that I didn’t tell you
That I told everybody else I knew
You said such horrible things about gays
So we have to go our separate ways.
You will go back to your church teas
And, I will go out with whomever I please.

I may end up working the streets
Or living with some stranger I meet
Because living your rules is as hard
As you’re not accepting the will of god;
Because this is who he made me.
So who has the right to degrade me?

While you gripe about me hiding from you
Examine all the hateful things you do
And the awful things you say every day
About my friends, and me who are gay.
Did you never consider from day one
That you might be talking about your son?