One who feeds upon the weakness of men,

Never to be overlooked by the greatest of them.

So desired also by the lowliest of men,

And her charms playing funny tricks on them.

Her eyes so bright and shinning like stars,

Her lips so full and extremely kissable

Oh her fingers so long causing them scars,

But the feel of her palms so pleasurable.

She is so pretty as the daughter of gods

Even kings and nobles desire to have her

Her smiles imprisoning many as though bound by cords

And her firm breasts bringing out the woman in her

A woman so curvy at all ends, so endearing

Commotion she causes whenever on the streets

Such romantic qualities she claims yet caring

To all who adore her always and everywhere she greets.

Making men loose their senses are desired intent

Drawing all attention to herself she craves

A lone admirer she never can be content

Thus in such seductive postures leading me to their early graves.



He Just Needs To Find His People, Then He’ll Be Safe — Discover

“Standing in that gay club, staring at my rainbow boy, I’d think to myself, ‘You’ve found your people. You’re safe here.’” Raising My Rainbow author Lori Duron reflects on the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando, Florida.

via He Just Needs To Find His People, Then He’ll Be Safe — Discover



Light shone around for the world to see,

The first of created things by the Supreme.

A light to enlighten at all times all men,

And darkness absconds, yet embraced by evil men.

Man the last of created things yet greater,

Acquiring the image and likeness of his Maker.

As clay was he molded into perfection,

And by His breathe became an ideal creation.

A perfect creature born into time;

Given the very best without paying a dime;

Selfishness driving him into hiding,

His nakedness exposing, God’s friendship non-deserving.

For as clay was he molded to be a treasure,

One whose companionship was without measure.

Yet in his weakness, he pierced the heart of trust,

Of Him who did everything to him entrust.

In regret, out of bliss was he ejected,

Into suffering and hardship warmly admitted.

To the deceiver, belly to the ground committed,

And at birth, pains the mother of all subjected.

Even at this time, refurbishing of the clay began,

By He who was God made man.

Transforming the frailty of human flesh,

Towards and always, man’s salvific flesh.

One of infinite essence, yet existing in time,

Appearing as man and weak in time;

But in reality was the Son of God,

The Redeemer of man, yet never was less God.

His death brought about the clay’s rebirth,

His rising from the dead, an eternal birth.

The clay’s treasure-value was reassured,

At His ascension, the clay’s value became treasured.

Not the treasure of the clay a must to show,

An offering to Him whose love on him did bestow.

Treasure in clay by God Himself confirmed,

And man, always and everywhere must uphold.