Sunday, April 17, 2011


You had asked for forgiveness on Monday, we all forgave unanimously

You ask to bear no malice for Wednesday and we all accepted the apology

You will ask for grace on Sunday, we will let bygones be bygones so kindly

You must give us amnesty, we haven’t forgotten Monday’s tearful melancholy

You labelled men no more then kisses printed on a wish penny that lingers

You still dream of life with Mr. Satin to float day and night over latin moon’s flicker

You take a closer look, we are no less then a broken feather placed in a book

You are our eyes to witness what we have been missing in an ailing relationship

You are our sensitive nose to sneeze the coldness that bears our painful pass

You are our ears to patiently listen to the sound of hope to love from gloominess

You are a constant tender touch of the hand that will lead out of the darkness

You are our voice to whisper: “Te amo sucrerie de mon coeur I am born again”

You are the reason, every February, men jump, wave, sing and dance for joy

You stood tall on deaf ears when little boys played with your mind like a toy

You are magical with your smell of mango that tickles the air with your smile

You are a lady who giggles gorgeous silk blue butterflies over ocean Wxyz

You all embody the same insecurity with different name identity, isn’t that crazy

You must wonder why our friendship fumbled when our trust popped like a bubble

You turn to sadness when we uncover the chuckle wasn’t a sign of your happiness

You shouldn’t keep white nervous shy lies neatly folded in your life’s precious purse

You keep black flies in your mind with stress marks around your neck like a scarf

You were not a Facebook internet friend with pink ribbon benefits tide on the ends

You are a miracle before our eyes as sure as Christmas and God are China made

You and our love will never fade as we turnover yet another misunderstood page

You will be strong to look within to find the key to break free from your youth’s cage

You are proud, excluded at the disciples diner table to burned your corset in rage

You hold a beautiful intelligent soul with gorgeous hair that falls down to your back

You must know that real men wouldn’t care even if you use to smoke pipe crack

You can stop the blaming game, be yourself even if all your teeth had turn black

You will one day realize, we are different with names like Teddy, Eddie or Trevor

You are you, now walk away from the negative reflections from your hand mirror

-- Louis Mercier

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