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Freak Show

Not a Girl

By Arthur ArmstrongPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
1
Freak Show
Photo by Macau Photo Agency on Unsplash

Raindrops hit the window, plap, plap, plap.

Thunder rolling with a green glow, clap, clap, clap.

Don’t listen to the voices, it’s a trap, trap, trap.

They’ll make you lose your mind in a snap, snap, snap!

AH! The faces in the window pane

Remind me of my former name

Prefer to be left in the rain

Than a product of my former fame.

I can’t be the girl of your dreams

But I can take you behind the scenes

Of the BIGGEST FREAKSHOW IN TOWN.

Welcome to the Freak Show.

We’re here to change what you know

About the life of the devastated

Yes, you’ll see.

My murder was premeditated,

By me.

“We’re here today to mourn the loss,

Of a bright young girl with the Celtic Cross.

She got good grades and went to school.

She never forgot the golden rule.”

But yesterday she bit the dust,

And now her body has no bust.

Her legs grow hair and her face does too

While her body shifts into something new.

No longer “She” of hollow name,

Instead he’s HE and not a dame.

Mourn her loss but leave me be,

No one knows who I am but ME.

Welcome to the Freak Show.

We’re here to change what you know

About the life of the devastated.

Yes, you’ll see.

My murder was premeditated, by ME.

inspirational
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About the Creator

Arthur Armstrong

A being of duality, poetic irreverence, and maddening nonsense.

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