The Martyr and the Poet
When I put this pen to paper I become brave I acknowledge that creativity in me and let it speak And it's loud . And it's free . It's stared at in public It's the type that's condemned for tattoos and rebellion She's unapologetic and naked in a field Screaming and dancing with the monarchs Running from both the Church and the Nazis Towards honest love She's wild and hated and loved more than any other She's assassinated on stage for Speaking up, speaking out Loving freely, having a dream Seeing more clearly, making love not war Chased down and caged for believing in Who's Not giving up or giving in She never wins But the point is the fight And she fights to the end What kid of existence is it? To be on a platform Where you're taunted by most, and lauded by others The Martyr and the Poet are lovers