Gay

Wrong

I feel my skin, my crawling flesh,
A smell so sweet, a touch too soft,
A hand too meagre, a foot too delicate,
A pain deep within, a fire inside,
But hollow and empty, drained to the core.

My heart is wrenching, falling apart,
Cheekbones to bright, a jaw not square,
A voice too sharp, the sound of despair,
Being pulled in all directions, waning to die,
My bones in the wrong order, body curved not flat,
The agony on my chest, the grimace between my legs.

Not being seen right, trying to scream,
Breaking my heart, as they look away,
No attraction, not even existing,
I am one of them, as if they care,
My dominance succumbs me, but my lack of tools declare.

My need screeching, my rejection answering,
Dreaming of pressing our bodies together, mine fitting wrong,
Our hands as one, a connection denied,
A life out of touch, a soul locked away,
Being unwanted, ignored even hated,
Being born in the wrong body, being told not to live.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about being born into the wrong body.

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Hurts To Be Gay

Folder: 
1st poems

You talk shit about "them people"
You say they aren't really people.
You think it's abomination.
You offend them with your words.
Do you even have a remote idea of how much that hurts?
I've come to realize,
'cause I've seen it with my own eyes.
That you and everyone else oppress them.
Slowly society takes their reason to live.

Have you ever wondered
What you would do,
if I turned out to be,
like the way they are?
Maybe then you would see.
That one of them wasn't that far.
My feelings are pure,
of that I am sure.
They are clear and strong.
Yet you remark them as wrong.
Is it because you're from a different time?
And when I decide to tell you,
will your feelings for me decline?
You say you love and care about me.
Will that change when you know?
Will your feelings ever turn?
What will I say when you ask me a question?
One thing I do know,
Of my resentment I will try let go.
Even though a piece of me dies everytime you mention.
How repulsive and sinful they are.
Everything I do and say is a lie.
And just like a worn out candle,
Soon enough I'll run out of wax and die.
How ignorant and barbaric does it sound?
To punish and individual and put them down,
just for being who they are.

It is not a choice,
if it was, I'd be an imbecile
to have chosen a life
that is only filled with the most abominable hardships.
You say that what they are and feel is forbidden
that's why I cover
and keep everything to myself secret and hidden.

I didn't want to be gay
And it wasn't something I found out about in a matter of a day.
It took years of "what if"'s
and hours of questioning.
Will you ever accept me?
Understand that this is not the way I wanted to be.

Come on see past the illusion
and make your own conclusion.
Since what you believe to be true
is false untill you know differently
and don't do it for me or anyone else, but for you.
Someday I hope
that the truth will be freed
and that you might be able to understand me.
But 'till that day
a liar and a fake is all I'll ever be...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

tell me what you think about it.

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THE GARDEN OF SODOM

 

Wandering in the delightful touch of the night,

The icy wind caressing my face,

My dim shadow shaking around,

Swallowed by the ghostly mouth of the moonlight,

I found the garden of Sodom! 

 

Like a rotten apple,

Full of human maggots,

Crawling around with distortionnate desires,

Possessed by the fire of lust,

They soul consummated by burning passion!

 

Slowly disintegrating,

By the melting stroke of perversion,

Nature feeding on some fast love,

Quick as the glimpse of a eye,

The devil plays tonight! 

 

Every kiss,

Every caress,

Every touch,

An immoral fruit,

From the garden of Sodom… 

 

Running around like a mad cat,

Looking for that ultimate ounce of pleasure,

Blind by greed,

The dream fading away,

Like the dying hope… 

 

Lost in some highway,

The disease feeding on your sins,

Like a growing tumour waiting to explode!

Chewing your sanity,

Epitome of whoring!

 

HERVE NAUDET DIT MARGOT

Author's Notes/Comments: 

each gardens hold his own beauty,,,

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