Continuing my poet dreams, I have yet another poem. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A twisted lullaby ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh a twisted lullaby A twisted screech, a hyena’s cry The people are blind Lying of its beauty For the voice that sings Has lost its wings One hears it as perfect Another, feathery And the other…Feminine Yet it is my voice they speak of If it is truly, “Perfect” “feathery” “Feminine” Then why do I recoil when I speak Why do I fake a rumble that I cannot have Why do I fear myself so much That I not dare even to speak at all My voice, it screams And my voice, it hurts False in all it is I cover and hide I lie, and lie, and lie Only for no aid to arrive Its not my voice A mere screech The resounding sound as it echoes in my head “Yours, yours, yours” no, No, NO It is no Lullaby It is no beautiful lie Its twisted Its wrong Its MY twisted Lullaby -Simon The rhymes are kind off smh
