A billish sort of way

Published by: bildo the changeling on 29th Jun 2011 | View all blogs by bildo the changeling

A billish sort of way

 

A poet looks upon me.

I am his humble friend.

With all my goods and bads,

He sees the whole of it, a feeling for me, I hope will never end,

Remembering the moments with freedoms to always send

Reflections of the joys and sads we've had and times we spend.

 

A love is there so deep and strong.

The masks of life have long since come and gone.

So far and few between to have a friend so real,

This poet looks upon me.

His friendship is what I feel.

 

It’s different with the rest of them

As they squirm in discontent around the room

Trying to show the best of them,

Trying to cover up the rest of them,

To do their best to avoid impending doom.

 

The masses are deadly afraid of me.

If they could only see the rest of me

They might get over their fear of gay in me

And find a day to see the best of me.

 

I love my friend, for on his worst or best,

He sees the all of me.

It brings me quiet, peaceful rest.

My poet cares and shows his love for me

In a way I’ve never known to see.

He never mocked the gay in me.

He has shown his love, his way, with me.

 

We have laughed and cried and seen a deeper pain inside.

We looked at farts and shits and squally googs

And demons in our heads and all the places where they hide

To find that some of them weren't dead.

 

We played and dressed and mocked with angels.

We giggled of cocks and balls

And strolled down fantasy halls

And wrote of the pain of prisoners fighting to get out

Before they get balled and mauled.

We never judged or tore apart our silly, little lies

Or truths from hearts.

 

We never ridiculed our doubts

Or our past or present days of highs

Or mocked our fears or pains or shouts

Or the silent, whisper need to cry.

We accepted each other’s ways without a shout or sigh.

 

It is kind of weird in a funny, sort of way,

Although I know I could chew on a long

Or thin or thick or fat, nice, juicy dick all day

Or suck some hungry, hairy ass

And call it play in a billish sort of way.

 

I know I’ll get a giggle or a smile

If I talk of cock for a little while.

I’ll see a little, elfish face go red

If I plant a little, horny, dirty piece

Of pussy thought, deep within his head. 

 

With all the jokes aside,

My poet helped me see a man inside to feel.

My poet, with all his love and humble pride for me

Made me feel like an ordinary guy for real.

 

For a moment, now days and months and years,

My fears have gone away.

I was just a poet, writer, artist, friend,

A bill, who now could be himself, in his humble, quiet way.

 

My poet, friend, singer, writer, elf,

A friend to all of me and the rest of me, "myself."

He is what a poet wants and dreams and strives to be

And will have to always be

And sad to say, it is the only poet way,

Himself and free at play!

 

"The demon is only here to chew your tiny ear and take a peek.

We have the time and care to put him fast asleep!

We will.

 

Thank you for accepting me.

Thank you to my little elf for letting me be my humble, honest way.

A little, faggy, fairy gay, my little, faggy self,

A simple, little me, another, little elf!"

 

bildo

Comments

1 Comment

  • SisQueenRella ~~~
    by SisQueenRella ~~~ 6 years ago
    *sigh* .. acceptance sans pretense .. unconditional love .. 'tis self's primary duty .. for one may not find another who will ~*~ but in being so blessed as to, what a GIFT!! .. ThanX for this~~~SQR
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