I Will Be ThereLean on me when the weight Of the world becomes to heavyFor you to carry on your own,When lifes burdens become toMuch for you to bear alone.Believe in me when I say that weAll fall down, and when you fall,I will be there to pick you back up again.When the black clouds clash And try to drown you in rain, You can come to me and I will Protect you from the storm.When the pace at which this Green earth spins becomes so greatThe ground trembles under your feet,I will be there to hold you steady.Believe in me when I say thatWe all fall down, and when you fall,I will be there to pick you back up again.I will be
Untitled . .I made the discovery that I was bisexual when I was in the sixth grade. I hid it for almost half the year, wondering to myself what exactly I was. Was I gay? No, I was still interested in boys. But the girls were becoming attractive to me, as well. It was almost like I was seeing them through new eyes. They weren't just pretty as in, "God, she looks pretty today." No. They were pretty as in, "God, she is pretty! I wish I had her on my arm!"I came to terms with myself. I told myself, "You are apparently bisexual." And this was after I had made the decision that no loving God would allow six year olds to die of cancer. So now, I was 12 or 13,
I'm Sorry I Can't Be YouI'm sorry I can't be a small-minded bigotWho can't understand that a man and a manBeing together is called 'love', and I'm sorryThat I can't be a rich little straight girl whoDoesn't understand that a woman holding hands With another woman is called 'affection'.I'm sorry I can't be one of the rioters, Holding up picket signs outside the courthousesTo let everyone know how wrong my opinion is.I'm sorry I can't be a state representative, Sitting in a stuffy room arguing that God Said this, and God said that, when thereIs supposed to be a seperation betweenThe words of God and the State.I'm sorry I can't be a social w
Angel in Cats ClothingBeautiful imperfections.Extra toes, legs that lookMore like they belong to a Kangaroo than to a cat,A tail that never stopsTwitching, and a nose that Never stops sniffing aroundFor mischief.But she's got eyes that Shine brighter than emeralds,And a meow that touches my heartMore than the song of any angel Ever could.She's my heart and soul,The apple of my eye, And usually the reason theOccasional curse escpapes me.She is my Mercury, my angelIn cats clothing.
Untitled ..Whispered words falling likeAcid rain from the mouthsOf the people who watchAs she trudges past. Fag!This tiny word stings her,Burrows underneath her skinAnd festers deep inside,Eating her from the Inside out like a parasite.She hates the glares andThe glances filled with a mixOf anger, hate, and closed-mindednessThat has been drilled into them sinceThe time they learned to talk.She knows she's different.But she doesn't need these people Who barely know her passing judgmentWhere no judgment is due.So as she trudges past,She meets their eyes,Only nodding and smiling whileThey glare and shake their he