Granny pointed to the lesbian couple.
Saying the girl who wore the suit is the man,
The other wore a wedding dress is the woman.
I was truly offended!
Until I ask Granny reasons,
I understood her intention wasn’t to harm.
She understands LGBTQ through her norms
and heterosexual eyes.
What could of happened?
If she had tolerance for LGBTQ but we didn’t have tolerance towards Granny.

Viral video of white Granny saying very homophobia statements avoided 😅

She was sitting there
Crying silently
Mascara flowing down
Down her broken face
Her broken fate

She was not a boy
Her truth was hidden
"You have to be a boy"
Her truth was forbidden


Secretively
She took her mother's Bindi
Lying carelessly on the bed
And wore it on her forehead
It was the only rebellion she was allowed
In a society so afraid
Of someone different from the crowd
But for the moment
It was all she needed

"Don't make the gods cry"
But what about her own tears?
The Bindi on "his" forehead
Was human civilization's greatest fear

Everybody wore a mask
She just couldn't
Or she would die
She was shakti
She was power
She was courage personified
The Bindi on her forehead
they couldn't hide

A wonderfully written prose,
Beautiful and elegant as a rose.
Lines as fine as sand that buries my toes,
Including all my worries and woes.

A love that would always be sweeter,
With a beautiful and amazing lover.
As I smile and write onto this paper,
Trying to put this masterpiece together.

My pen that moves gracefully,
Creating a piece that's written beautifully.
With lines and verses thought carefully,
For an angel whom I love unconditionally.

In fact it is without a doubt,
These are words I couldn't say by mouth.
Afraid things might suddenly go south,
But we all know to who this is all about.

It is for the daughter of Aphrodite,
Who is also the Goddess of Love and beauty.
Someone who possesses beauty with much intensity,
She is someone who can bring you to insanity.

I will be picking up my pen,
and I will write once again.
For now I'm not sure when,
but please wait until then.

As I will write about flattery,
words that are just flowery.
Creating a verse that's happy,
not about the feeling of misery.

A poet that felt a joyous feeling,
an emotion I put into writing.
I found my muse that was missing,
after years of blindly searching.

Inspired by the apple of my eye,
I let out a satisfied sigh.
It's a warm feeling I can't deny,
and I will never ask why.

Love you, I.
With your maddening grace
hold me tight
in a thrilling embrace.
Take my heart
(whole my being), please.
Let me drown
in your luscious kiss.

A weapon that’s finely honed—
not more than a wire, a knife.
Nowhere on Earth I belonged,
until you invaded my life.

Around me, your arms wrap with comfort;
warmth spreading; hold’s steady, no effort.

Throughout, all’s familiar, safe.
My self (for what I always longed)—
no longer a weapon, a knife—
a man, fully, finally owned.

Just for you, baby (only), I bloom.
Your simple smile lightens the room,
Leaving me breathless
And giddy – it’s madness.
Just for you, baby (only), I bloom.

“Is it real when your mouth is on mine?
Do we share a heart when our bodies align?”
Thoughts are frantic in jealousy, torment,
As I savour this fleeting soft moment…

I am a selfish man.
Here, now, even then,
I take all that you give, all you offer.
From a boy to a man, as I suffer,
You arise and blossom, beside me.
Still, my feelings, desires escape free.

Stop this greed—I don’t know if I can.
I am yours, I am a selfish man.

squelched between bodies spiralling into escalators,
my trained eye couldn't help hovering a little left

right there, coming into view at the watch store,
though never caught dead anywhere near M·A·C

but neither should my stares, blatant without restraint,
fixed on a trio chattering like keys jangling

to the beat of a million other stolen glances,
only for them to slip away for some froyo.

rather than melt into a fruity confection myself,
I steel my eyes back into the spiralling masses

blocking out three gym bags marked 'WATER POLO',
my untrained heart pulses still for their suntan

and the bleachers of yesterday, the sight and sweat,
jocks jangling for position in glistening waters —

only then did I dare scream my lungs out,
safe in the crowds of a high school roar.