This world is covered in bias It’s all over you It’s all over me too This world is covered in bias It shades our words

Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses

The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me

The passive-aggressive Guilt trip Is a weak tool For your purpose The sensitive

If I could draw a tree In all it’s complexity Would you be impressed? If I could draw a human face It would be but a trace

A fresh faced country girl Who pioneers on her bicycle Catches the eye Of a transplant from Houston Love begins through letters

A joke Lost in Translation You will Never

She is no longer Part of my life I’ve moved on My life is full With friends

A palomino gallops Beside the highway Look out the window Rides over green hills Through yellow flowers

Beautiful legs The right shape and curve Olive color without the green That tans and doesn’t burn Until you see

Strong hands Hold me down To the bed I say to them I have to go

I’ve known Deep inside All along My value That I matter

Didn’t they know that people cared? That they were loved? Why didn’t someone tell them?