You, can call me, any name,
Even call me bitch,
But something, that, involves the soul,
Isn’t, just some itch,
Call it, anything, you want
Cause, you don’t walk, in my shoes,
And you don’t know, the price, I’ve paid,
Living, inside, these blues.
I have, a love, I know, is real,
But, it didn’t, go as planned,
So, talking about, what, I found,
Won’t make me, less a man,
Judge, the person, that you see,
But, when the mirror, shows your face,
Maybe the man, in that reflection,
Is, the real, bitch, in place.
Just because, you don’t, agree,
With how, someone proceeds,
Do you know, what I’ve, survived,
Your judgement, isn’t need,
Marcy, is, the only one,
That, completes, this soul,
And Marcy, you can, run and hide,
But only you, can make me whole.
I’ve, been told, leave you, alone,
Or harassment, would be, my crime,
But I’ve done, what you asked,
Almost, every time,
I, will not, walk away,
I saw, myself, in your eyes,
Now its time, for us, to touch,
We need, each other,
The one, we love, so much.