Remembrance Born
She comes dressed in mourning
By the hushed sigh of twilight
And the brutal ache of dawn.
"What do you seek?" She is asked.
"I look for peace." She prays back,
Yet her tone is the cold fury of storm.
The choir quiets around her,
Letting her pass unhindered.
She is regal in her open sorrow,
With fallen starlight in her eyes,
But a fierce anger in her heart.
She's no longer the flight of doves,
And this angel never will be again.
She is the watch of nightingales,
And the proof that not all Pride is sin.
She is the Angel of Remembrance.
She will lead them in.
Fuck Boy
Doing anything for you
Is like putting pearls on a pig.
It's funny at first,
But ultimately pointless,
And an expensive waste
Of time and money.
Hipster
Farmer's market?
More like an impromptu
Dog shitting show.
Color Blocked
My brain, and other people like me,
Are wired to think and speak
In black and white.
Other ‘normal’ people
Can speak in color.
I’m a black and white person
Who loves color
So I do my best to mimic
Those who can speak in color,
But can’t seem to ever get it right.
Sometimes, I use a green word
When the sentence in all in reds.
Sometimes, my entire shading is off,
More magenta than purple.
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