My son who was a female impersonator, and the pain the transformatio seemed to erase.
Watch the change
See the being transform
Building an image that is not he
A place to hide so no one can see
The pain no one else can feel
Hidden behind the perfect mask
Entertaining the group
As if it is a natural task
Yet the painted face laughs
The sequined gown flashes
Strutting to the rhythmic beat
The feminine satire complete
Angry at an apparition
Impersonating a fabrication
Testing and creating talents
That make the satire obsolete
The satisfaction is no longer there
Nothing left to prove
Time to leave the ghosts behind
Time to erase the tears
08/04/2004
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Read 682 times
Written on 2015-09-12 at 03:12
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Erase The Tears
Watch the change
See the being transform
Building an image that is not he
A place to hide so no one can see
The pain no one else can feel
Hidden behind the perfect mask
Entertaining the group
As if it is a natural task
Yet the painted face laughs
The sequined gown flashes
Strutting to the rhythmic beat
The feminine satire complete
Angry at an apparition
Impersonating a fabrication
Testing and creating talents
That make the satire obsolete
The satisfaction is no longer there
Nothing left to prove
Time to leave the ghosts behind
Time to erase the tears
08/04/2004
Poetry by Kee Zealy
Read 682 times
Written on 2015-09-12 at 03:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Ivan R |
