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

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