She sees pictures on dark walls, of times that she can’t dissolve,
Reflections of an echoed past, that evening that happened so fast.
The fault was not you nor I, yet you chose your grave to hide,
A death to the nights we shared, from the tears we bared,
Because we were scared, of the choice we declared.
Sometimes I still see her face you know, in the moon lights glow,
Reflections of your soul, shining on the tear drops of my pillow.
On that sunny day in May, or when the autumn leaves turn gray,
Shouting with such Boisterous gay, our families were dismayed.
I’ve filled this poem with words, that look bright tonight,
I’m older with youth, giving them the love we had those nights,
When I stepped in to the future, and you rose to a new height.
I keep in silence as a lamb, as cursed I am, another broken dam,
Force to drift through uncharted seas, and through forest filled lands
Yet in my heart lies this quest, birth from our turmoil and stress,
To prove this sexuality is a vest, honed from our loves laments.
So let loose this bitch for war, let the courage of women soar,
In this time of scorn, lives hate for what isn’t a social norm.