Surrounded by silver, trapped inside my star of scars, I am filled with lead. I am made from plastic, I became a sliver of shattered glass, from the broken mirror, blood cracks the veins, venom surrounds my heart. I do not hate, enough, I do not love tainted white, doves. I break myself in shards, to ace the joker dealt, demons do dozen dollars, I am playing with the devils cards. You will never see the weak in me, only I am privilege to see, the death inside the eye of me. Spells are cast, useless to the tooth of tools, predicted what you can never, you are the only fool. Mage of clay and made from hay, who cares to wear the dress, if you want to be a Queen, do it your way, be gay, do it your way. Closets are closures, closures are closets, do not be left behind and locked away. Personally, to my tea, I love women, I just love too many, even for all the worlds useless Pennies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem