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Poem

A while ago someone accused my work of being nothing short of soft porn. Here is my reply. 

Hypocrisy is a wonderful thing.
With words said in praise that ultimately sting
the victims of jealously's unfocused bile, 
passed on by those with no sense of style.
Stealing men's words, and other men's prose,
like some new skill,
but I can only suppose,
that acceptance of violence,
and the shunning of lust,
shows me a world that ultimately must,
take pride in putting another soul down,
for being this woman instead of a clown, 
with feelings and statements, 
and nothing to say,
avoiding pains payment, 
and choosing to pray,
to someone who hates me for all that I am, 
well keep your poor judgement, 
I don't give a damn. 
Wonten lust and feelings suppressed 
are rampant among us and should be expressed.
Not hidden away,
subjected to scorn.
Not put in a box and labelled as porn. 
So if my harsh words hit home to you now,
imagine how I feel you miserable cow.
When told that my art is nothing but slime,
brings me no comfort, but at least it is mine,
and not some knock off of a dead poets work,
try finding your own voice you sad little jerk.
Then maybe I will respect your views,
but until that time comes, here is the news.
I have talent.
I have worth.
My voice will be heard to the ends of the earth. 
For until someone stops me,
or my muse runs dry,
my pen will speak for all those who cry,
alone in the dark,
with no one hold,
loosing youth's spark,
afraid to grow old. 
Being told they're too fat or they need bigger tits,
shopping for clothing to find nothing fits.
Where 'one size fits all' does not include you,
but sexual fetishes probably do.
So keep your opinions,
your judgmental sighs.
I don't need you near me.
I don't need your lies.

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