A Sapphic Poem
Mine is not a story of rosy cheeks and buttery sunsets
it is a tale of teary streaks and stormy upsets
If you look at the horizon waiting for the charming prince to swoop in
You shall stand & wait till all your parts start aching
Mine is a tale of abnormalities and strangeness
Words that I have learned to wear round my neck like amulets
It is a story of squeezing in through cracks they tried to seal
Of standing up in corners that they did their best to conceal
Ours is a story of princesses who grabbed what they wouldn’t be given
Who barged through doors they were told were forbidden
It is a tale of endurance and spirit borne of raising our voices
Of existing, of living, of thriving even when we weren’t given choices.
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