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Daivik Dec 2020
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 wore her mother's gold necklet
Lying carelessly on the bed
To free her choked up neck
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
She was proud

"Don't make the gods cry"
But what about her own tears?
The gold necklet 'he' wore
Was human civilization's greatest fear

Everybody wore a mask
She just couldn't
Or she would die
She was Athena
She was power
She was courage personified
The gold necklet she wore
they couldn't hide
brandon nagley Feb 2017
Many contrive du-jour fêtes to make love look self-evident; whilst the taken hold hand's, making locution the regular, in letters they trade off into lusting hands.

Winsome cut-out caricature cards, sell fresh off the press, whilst lovers meet at bars; to await the next years
Valendine.

A holiday for only once in a darkly year, as the meanwhile divorce rates spike from cheaters, woman-beaters;
Amour's no longer of the creator, but made to be the abzere.

Mine jane, please do not fear, I know I mayest not hath much, but a soul and spirit; I connect to thine.

None inauthentic word's, or thoughts you'll find;

Only what I hath to give thee.

The indigenous necklet that grows around this neck, a buttoned up longsleeve, that holds mine back;
With a black vest that caresses mine chest- with a smile I hardly show
Because of mine soda stained, missing teeth in a mouth where
Poetry speaks of pain, yet where
Affection is created by mine tongue
That creates wonders and Shame.

I hath not much material thing's, though material is temporal; not fit for kings and queens.

As I hath thou, as thou dost me,
I hath not much mine jane; though
Thou dost hath the key.

The key that open's this beating
Heart for thee; wherein mine
Love is always seen, in the
Specks of thy eyes.

The more ourn love grows, it burns
As a wildfire, I hear the wedding bell's
Require; ourn calling in
The distance.

©lonesome poet's poetry
©Brandon nagley
©earl jane sardua nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Word meanings:
Contrive:create or bring about.
Du jour: something enjoyable, short lived.
fêtes: celebration, festival.
Whilst: while
Locution: word or phrase.
Winsome:-attractive or appealing in appearance or character.
Valendine: word I made meaning(Valentine death).
abzere:word I created meaning( worldly, fleshly, of the physical having god not in its core, no existence without god.)
Mayest: may
Thine: yours.
Hath: have.
None: no.
Thee, thou: you
Thy: your.
Necklet: necklace.
Dost:do.
Wherein: in which.
Ourn: our.

— The End —