Thursday, May 29, 2014


Children will hear of your name
through gossip and speak of it as
rumors. They will only know of your
life what the tabloids tell them.
Your voice will sound like a whisper
compared to the gibberish of Nicki Minaj.

But someday when the caged bird
knows that freedom is at hand,
you will be there on the pulse of morning
like a mother to open the cage up for them.
To hug them into a brave and startling truth.
To kiss them out of a plagued journey.
They will bury themselves in the
mother nature of your antique arms.
Women will feel phenomenal again.
Men will hold you like the
last raw egg in the world for eternity.
Poets will be honored to keep your
legacy breathing through their fingertips.


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