I was once told I was a freak, an alien, an outcast
So many times I was told, so many nights fearing nightmares,
that sadly, I believed every word I didn´t want to be meant
I was once called a freak, an alien, an outcast
I was such a fool
I was just a kid
I was too stupid
that I believed everything,
because I was told too many times.
I´ve grown fond of a society,
that would rather watch men with guns,
than holding hands,
than loving each other,
than simply following what they believe innocent
I was once called a freak, an alien, an outcast,
because I wrote this poem
because I believe in the spoken word
because I ditched a cult that worshipped repression.
I´ve grown fond, of this society,
These robotic Halloween dolls, haunting nightmares
I´ve always been called a freak, an alien, an outcast
I´ve grown fond, specially,
of watching you leave
of seeing you loving her
of simply denying me
And now, I´m so tired,
of not watching the dawn,
of not feeling your gentle touch,
of not hearing your husky voice
But the dawn, oh the dawn,
and it´s tender colors
that, I miss truly.
But I will no longer miss the dawn
I shall never miss all deprived from me
I will no longer wonder,
how my life would be like,
if I hadn´t made these decisions.
If I hadn´t become that nasty word,
escaping all of their lips.
If I wasn´t a lyric written in my wall,
or in a London wall, for that matter
If I wasn´t a breath escaping rough lips,
the roughest of soft lips
the nastiest of lips, if you ask others
And, I shall never be called,
a freak, an alien, an outcast,
just because I wrote this poem.
Photo Credits: ~musicandphotography