Reformed Sufferagette by amateurishgarbage, literature
Literature
Reformed Sufferagette
“Do not fight designed fate”
“Embody womanly grace”
No one hears you
when you never speak
if you just knew
when to not be meek
will you break the ceiling?
no one will let you in
you are always willing
the mute led by deaf kin
“Do not show them your face”
“Never let them see you bleed”
No one loves you
when you are fake
if you just knew
to not be opaque
will you march the impasse?
no one will want your plea
you are the lass
living by another’s decree
“Do not dare disagree”
“Never forget your place”
No one respects
what you desire
if you just accept
when held to
Epitaph for a Wasted Soul by amateurishgarbage, literature
Literature
Epitaph for a Wasted Soul
Write for me a story about spring
Because I am sick of December
Compose for me and sing
But don’t make me remember
Rhyme for me a verse about hope
Because I’m sick of death
Paint for me and cope
But don’t count on my breath
Life is short and ends with a grave
I’ll waste it away and then they’ll say:
Woe is he, one who slaved each day
He would not live, now he’ll decay
So now, all; let us bow and pray
For the soul who always craved love
But was unfortunately gay
And his stone, forever dismay
Reflecting his life, endless fray
How dare he, to pursue it all
To etch his dreams, he had the gall
How dare he, to l
Reformed Sufferagette by amateurishgarbage, literature
Literature
Reformed Sufferagette
“Do not fight designed fate”
“Embody womanly grace”
No one hears you
when you never speak
if you just knew
when to not be meek
will you break the ceiling?
no one will let you in
you are always willing
the mute led by deaf kin
“Do not show them your face”
“Never let them see you bleed”
No one loves you
when you are fake
if you just knew
to not be opaque
will you march the impasse?
no one will want your plea
you are the lass
living by another’s decree
“Do not dare disagree”
“Never forget your place”
No one respects
what you desire
if you just accept
when held to
Epitaph for a Wasted Soul by amateurishgarbage, literature
Literature
Epitaph for a Wasted Soul
Write for me a story about spring
Because I am sick of December
Compose for me and sing
But don’t make me remember
Rhyme for me a verse about hope
Because I’m sick of death
Paint for me and cope
But don’t count on my breath
Life is short and ends with a grave
I’ll waste it away and then they’ll say:
Woe is he, one who slaved each day
He would not live, now he’ll decay
So now, all; let us bow and pray
For the soul who always craved love
But was unfortunately gay
And his stone, forever dismay
Reflecting his life, endless fray
How dare he, to pursue it all
To etch his dreams, he had the gall
How dare he, to l