This Is Fantasia

His eyes run up,
Her pink stockinged thigh,
She squeals with joy!
He can hear her.
Flamboyance and height,
In a pink glitter wig,
He knows a few that see her,
Would fear her.
He feels sadness,
Rise up in his heart and mind,
As injustice and violence
Grow near her.
Her manicured nails,
Her glossy lips,
No longer serve,
To endear her.
'Set her free! ' he thinks,
'I'm not scared anymore! '
And he turns away
From the mirror.

© 2012

poem by Ruby Honeytip
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!