Poetry

    THE STRAIND OF MY BEAUTY 

I have gelled, fried, straighten, cut

But my straind gives not

So I give in not knowing 

What is to become of my straind 

My strained that will not be tame

Nor controlled 

To that which I want

I have fought with

Cried over 

And hated what God had

Blessed upon me

My strainds have entertained me

I have given into my strainds

And let them do as they please

Which has given me freedom 

Freedom that I knew not before

For this freedom 

A spirit has come

To set my strainds ago

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