Among the piles of ***** clothes
Beyond the stacks of dishes
Lives a girl you’ve passed before
A truly absurd missus.

She shows the moon her moonlight
And showers in the rain.
If you glanced your eyes upon her
You would wonder if she's sane.

She wears two different shoes
One black and yet one red.
She even has three hair colors
That grow out of her head.

Her skin is very spotty
White patches all around.
Her head is red and blistered
With scales like dragons crowned.

She has teeth like a vampire
Some pointed and some straight.
I’ve been told she bites people
Who touch her by mistake.

Some people say she is a fool
Who hides behind blue eyes,
Or say she is a tyrant
With a torso full of lies.

Some people say she's misconstrued,
Not odd deliberately.
“Perhaps she's a mishap of God”
They say concernedly.

She laughs at jokes not funny.
She does everything wrong.
One time she walked around the town
With her dress tucked in her thong.

I heard she drinks alcohol
Like it's her morning kiss
And slurs her speech suspiciously
In an evil nasty hiss.

So if you see this missus
I’ll tell you what to do,
Just walk right on past her,
Until you’re somewhere new.

She is not worth your time
Not a second or a split
Not a minute or an hour
Not a day and not a tick

So simply just keep walking by,
Your dignity in check.
Keep your eyes on the horizon
And she's gone within a sec.

Don’t dare to look too closely, ma'am,
Fear what she may do!
If you gave her any time of day
You’d find out.. well.. she's like you.

I see the world around me from my corner of darkness,
and I realize I am hiding.
My mind such a controversy.
I look at people in my periphery,
so near but so far from me.
My embrace such a controversy.
I feel bored, so I look down at myself.
My body and such a controversy.
I like to talk to the voices inside and outside me in the dark.
My voice such a controversy.
I yearn for simplicity, but nothing strikes me
more than the fact that simplicity is the biggest controversy.
                                                    ­                    -storm-

Sitting in the front of shack,
I'm watching the rain falling.
Everything is so fresh,
All colours are very clear.

My cat is watching me,
Quietly from the high,
Wishing come down to me,
In his huge green eyes.

But he didn't make a move;
It's all in water and wet.
But that's ok i guess,
Still watching the rain.

The cat cought my look,
And i cought his look;
Playing the old look game,
Who's gonna blink first.

Thinking on victory, i lost.
The game made me laugh.
Both, still watching the rain,
Only in a different way.

As I looked up,
under the night's blue overhung,
A moonlit hollow.
I could not know what the people were,
nor the things,
That grew within the garden walls.

But I was not saddened,
I was not cold,
Beyond a closed window's glow,
and hearing only the rustling
Of grass in the gutter.

I weep for the children,
Nurtured in denial;
Taught to hate themselves,
As if living were a trial.

They say be yourself,
But don't be too bold.
You can express yourself,
But please fit our mold.

We love you unconditionally,
Unless you are gay.
For that is sinful,
You will surely pay.

Hypocrites raising children,
Are like a hammer to glass.
Destined to devastate,
Destined to smash.

Oh beautiful flower

Your petals are falling

Your stem is bending

Your scent is fading.

What kind of flower are you?

Not bright or tall

Nor colored or warm

You stand out amongst them all.

A flower so keen on the heat of the sun

And the chill of the night

With the wind you will run.

For the pretty and the perfect flowers

Are a comforting sight

But the flower thats different

Makes a difference in life.