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When You See Only A Stranger in the Mirror
Before the mirror the image reflected
tells a lie and conceals the truth inside;
what the world sees is only a stranger,
a separate being not truly yourself,
but another self that has taken over;
now trapped behind the prison of flesh
others await you to play the part.
Locked alone within the dark
as words obscene dance through your thoughts,
(freak, weirdo, sexual deviant, mentally deranged)
what others would judge if you fail to entertain
their illusion of what identity means,
that the skin you wear on the outside must fit
your feelings on the inside.
Is it a crime if deep within you shelter
a blossoming young woman who only wishes
to be beautiful and have the freedom of expression,
(to where lipstick rosy red, paint her nails pink, strut in high heels, twirling in a swank black dress)
simple pleasures denied when your insides don't match your outsides,
and all you see reflected back to you is misplaced masculinity.
If there were a perfect God somewhere
was it only a cruel joke to be forever
entrapped within the wrong body
crying in the solitude of mockery of those
who demand you dance to their tune of normality.
10:10 AM - 1/27/2010 -
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