I stopped
inside a light house
on a dark and foggy night
and in the beacon
in the fog
I saw far too many sights.

Lovers lost in their pasts
uncompleted tasks
of shoulda coulda wouldas
"If only's"
blocking their
paths.

The ferrel human beings
with eyes of gold
but no money
to buy a room
running to nowhere soon.

The poetry outlaws
with no words
left to sing
lost within their prisons
and know one knows
what they mean.

The beacon flashed
and in the light
I saw those
trapped in drudgery
and fading dreams
of being free.

And lonely souls
in darkened rooms
of four white walls
with no where to go
and no one coming that they know.

The beacon flashed
in that fog
the horn it rang
to no one listening
but the ships lost at sea
heard something
but asked themselves
was it really meant for me?

It
Spotlighted lovers
on the far sides
of the bed
their love lost
in what is now
misery and dread.

Wage slaves breathing toxic air
and what's this life for
their breath asks
captured in the foggy air.

Stopped at that lighthouse
to look out at that foggy sea
was all about the poetry
and what it means to me
a light
on a foggy
populated sea
and
life told in scenes
about
those who struggle to be free.

I am a female
I am a ****** being
The two are, surprisingly
Not mutually exclusive.

A *****, a ****, a *****
As the society might describe it
Are words with the meaning
To keep women submissive.

I may ****  who I please
When I please
For whatever reason I so choose.
And it doesn't have a **** thing to do with you.

Heaven forbid I'm not viginistic
When my ring finger is bound
Because viginity is a 'gift'
I mustn't pass it round.

I must walk like a lady
And only **** who I love
But the boys can run freely
Kiss and tell and call me a ****.

He's been with eleven girls
And has a girlfriend on the side
I've been with two boys
And not at the same time.

A pat on the back for him
Because he's got all the *******
But social exclusion for me
Because my ****** nature is vicious.

God, I must be a *******
For actually speaking of ***
I'm a woman, we can't do that
But, ****, sometimes I forget.

See, I was raised to hold my head high
Without looking up.
I was raised to be ladylike, polite
And wait until I found love.

I was brought up to hold my tongue
I was trained not to take up space
I was taught not to roughhouse about
Or follow the boys' ways.

I was brought up to fear ***
Until I found love or was married
But what the **** is love or a ring
When I can't even get equality?

I was taught that I should be ashamed
If I thought sexually
And I shouldn't even consider trying
*******.

I was told to hide my body
Because women are to be pure
If I wasn't pristine, who would want me?
I'd be a lonely spinster.

My body is my own
To do with what I please.
So **** your expectations, Society;
*I will have equality

nope!

too busy

inside the pink*



You make me swoon...