It's stunning and brave:
Some man thinks he's a woman.
Give that quing a keen!

words are a gift
and i am tired of
nicely wrapped
empty boxes

the waking hours can be chaotic,

like being in the eye of the storm

I see the destruction around me,

hear the deafening sounds of the winds,

and i'm not sure which way to go,

if I was to run away

but after it dissipates, the days return

to a peaceful, harmonious state

and nights with her are calm and tranquil