Late Appreciation

The year ends soon,
It’s time to wrap up the change begun,
Some time ago, when a boy was sad,
Revived by the blazing sun,
The final thing, yet to be done,
A message of forgiveness, acceptance,
An admission of love,
The words you had hoped to hear, growing up
You were protected by your ignorance,
Till the world around you showed itself,
Judging, criticising, calling you names,
Sowing the seeds of self-hate,
Constricted by the effects of your mistakes,
Slowly, yet surely, more unaware of your beauty,
Demoting self-appreciation, in the name of modesty,
But now, I can say, your beauty is clear,
We are more familiar now, closer than ever,
That fear, rage and anger can go,
Wash them away with love, and know
You are an amazing person, we never knew,
Appreciation can show up late sometimes,
But you deserve the world, you always did,
Keep holding your head high as you learned,
Always remember the value of your worth,
I may not have seen it until now but,
We still have a long life left don’t we,
Stay strong, love.

Winter Wonders

Feel the chill of the December wind,
That rushes between your legs,
That makes you shiver in the cold,
Wanting someone to share your warmth,
In the sheets of a bed too large for one,
Your urges steer the direction of your heart,
Making you cringe at the thought of being alone,
For another merry holiday season,
Whether your Christmas be white or yellow,
One thing maintains around the world,
The winter winds come to whisk you away,
To a saharan love or an arctic shudder.

Not the Man You Thought

Call me a man,
I don’t know if I would agree,
Not because I doubt myself but
From the things you say about men it seems
I don’t reflect that light so well,
From the words you said,
Cursing the ones you hate,
Generalizing us all for your bitter pleasure,
But though I say us, simultaneously I must
Say that I may differ from the others,
I know of my feelings,
Enough to give you descriptive responses,
Answering all of the questions you asked,
I think of women no less than I,
Agree they may do as they like,
I don’t stare, nor make inappropriate advances,
Nor get upset from a young lady’s rejection,
Never took pride in the gift of another woman’s body,
And I feel we’re all submissive to this world.

I won’t be a man till I correct these right?
Being  a child isn’t so bad after all.

Talking to Myself

I thought I had the answers,
Went over them all in my head,
Now there’s a phantom of memory,
Lying beside me on my bed.
Whispering soft words I knew,
Striking the heart with each jab,
Knowing how I feel in my mind,
With each strike, an accompanying laugh.

When did I invite the stranger
Into the room of my mind,
Hanging over my shoulder,
Telling me what I wish were lies.
Wearing the faces I’ve known,
Echoing memories to the tee,
So I can’t even try to ignore when
The face begins to look like me.

Because who else knows me more,
The feelings, the thoughts and secrets,
Forcing memories of bonds carved,
The thinnest and the deepest.
Least they’re discussed with myself alone,
Persistent thoughts driving me deaf,
Deciding not to leave me alone until
I stop talking myself.