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Apr 2020
Oh, you poor thing
Only a mess of tears and feathers now
Your innocent halo, cracked and broken
Your newly-found wings, singed to a coal black
How did it feel to be discarded?
Cast out of the only home you knew
Having to fall so far down, so far below
Into a place where no one knows your name
Only a shapeless form on the sidewalk now
And for what, because you changed?
Because they didn’t like this new you,
Even though, from birth, this has always been you?
They just never saw it, refused to see it
Covered their eyes and prayed some more for you
Did it hurt the way they shouted fire?
Holding onto old traditions and ideals
And trying to convince you this was wrong,
That you were wrong?
Did it hurt the way they scarred your body?
They way they refused to listen,
Condemning you without a trial?
Without a voice?
Well, many of us have felt the same
Your not alone in that
But sooner or later you’ll have to rise,
Up from the ashes, dusting them away
So pick up your discarded, broken halo
Stick the ends into your bleeding head
Wear it like a crown, with pride, with bravery
Shed your feathers, reveal what’s underneath
And when you walk into that darkness, you’ll see
Just how not alone you are
King Arthur
Written by
King Arthur
414
   pharaohnica
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