Forgive me if I am bitter
Oh God
Sprinkle some sugar
I can't help the way I feel

I know you worked
So very hard
But so did we
All of us
Including me

So forgive me if I am bitter
Oh please God
Sprinkle some sugar
I can't help the way I feel

I know you are so much smarter
Your decisions so much better
And you feel you are greater

And my vanity is churning
Let the flames keep burning  

So forgive me if I am bitter
I can't help the way I feel

And I know I should not look back
But how else can I be found
Heart tightened by jealousy
Because I can not cope
With your supremacy
As you tower over me
I can feel the way you see

So please for give me if I am bitter
I can't help the way I feel

I know it is not you
I just need a little time
To find a brand new way
With a little sugar in my play

So forgive me if I am bitter
I can't help the way I feel

And when I hold all this bitter
I feel like societies litter
I also really know
That I need to let go

So please forgive if I am bitter
I can't help the way I feel
I just need a little time
With some sugar I will be fine

I am smashed down
By the worlds standards
With such physical expectations
My hopeless heart sinks
So small, so small
so small, I am
As I am haunted by
the images of tender Beauty
Powerless and worthless, I feel
As I walk daily, shrinking inside
I hold my dignity tight
As this shrinking violet
Hides in her great forest
Cheeks all flushed and red
I scurry behind some foliage
Surrounded by my own dead wood

The lashing striking pain
The whips of many masters
Draw blood from my many old wounds
As I become aware of my infected self
Far to much it is for me
As I play pass the parcel
With all my friends
As youth shines its splendor,
its brightness, claiming all the sky's
I am burned by its great heat
My skin scorched
For such beauty can feel
like the furnaces of hell

For what God would curse us
With such inadequacy and shame
In this half life
For I live in a darkened room
Of many locked doors
Where I have cut my own
Arms and legs off so
That I may live in this world
As I live on silent scraps
While the world enjoys its harvest
and feasts on Gods bounty

But better it is to be the limp inadequate
That can only fail to catch
Helplessly left only to observe
As a great physical Prowess
Can be a great curse
For much seeing is lost
In the unquenchable appetite
of hungry feasting Lion's  
As there is in the glory of conquest
The soul can be long forgotten

The seeds of my shame
And inflections of inadequacy
Where burdens, never of God's will
But sewn by the devil himself
To hide the majesty of God's creation
So I relax to observe
The weeding of my gracious God
As I am relieved of each passing pain
I fall into blissful acceptance

Imagine, for this night, you are the queen of Fairy Tale land.
I, too, am a prince, from Make-Believe kingdom.

From beyond our cocooned proximity,
the night shimmers in, and thickens to a silken thread of moonlight
that the crone will soon spindle into her never-ending story
of billion constellations, both seen and unseen
by naked, desperate novas.

We, entwined, like the roots under a rabid rainforest,
pale as innocence, battering feverishly against the stones for ever afters,
seize Avalon, and reject Camelot.
The canopy of fireflies  synchronises in raw euphoria,
a rebel Excalibur.

The wind matures around us.
Tomorrow may be an inevitable notion,
but my queen of Fairy Tale land,
my sword, shield, bow, toothbrush, unicorn,
worn-out copy of The Arabian Nights,
all lay bare before your lion throne.

This world was once a crevice between fire and ice.
Fire and ice run in our veins,
from me to you and back into the realm of drunken faeries,
where the bumblebee heart of the day
is yet to ignite the pomegranate sky.