Ostracized from quietism
a renegade unafraid, traveling
back along the track that you
have laid.

Interfering as you thrall
not to loose a brawl
What fires would implode
your omniscient demeanor.

The complications of perceptions
my thoughts through your eyes
taking five to summarize.

The unforgiving inch loathing the
unending mile, bleeding lesions
the slow death of your reasons,
what understanding to implore.

The past helps to define me
as I adjust to the present grade,
my vision of the future's, dim
after watching my dreams all fade;

crowded by my dissappointments
as my lonely accomplishments, flutter in the breeze,
knowing these things to be true, is enough
to bring any man, down on his knees !

Surrounded, by everyone's else's opinion
and all alone, in that very regard;
there's enough dirt being thrown my way,
I should have a cornfield-sized, front yard.

I'm not a girlie girl
i don't wear pink dresses,
i didn't play with Barbie when i was a child.

I long for unconditional devotion,
but i haven't spent my life
in pusuit of the perfect white wedding.

The love i have to give is infiniite.
when passion hits , ill be a slave to fervor,
i'll be adoration's bitch.

But i will not surrender
to the dark side of my gender
I won't be a girlie girl.

Turning green as Sycamore trees
But can never smell as sweet
All because the bumble bee’s
Always come to me,

The worker ants carry their load
Without the slightest care,
But it seems that your back
Has never seen wear and tear,

Babbling like a brook
Constantly without stop
All that you say
Just crashes against deaf rocks,

The flowers that bloomed today
and wither on the morrow
Seem to have more sense
Then all your yesterdays,