Friday, September 28, 2012

Delilah



Sampson and Delilah were no Brangelina
They were not publicized as the people’s preference
Because this is no love story
This is no hometown glory
This is a lived lie forever remembered in tissue thin sheets
And here is where you author me
He wrote her in as the villain
Then claimed the pen forced his hand
That the shredded story missed the can
That he lost his literate plan
When she loved him like no one else
Delilah
Now a curse
No worse than being called a Jezebel
Delilah
Now means deception of dreams
Creator of schemes
Because you created an elaborate crime scene with damning evidence
You contemplated while diving through desk drawers
As you removed the Crayola safety scissors and replaced them with a Schick sharp blade
You remarked on your hair like a song that’s overplayed
You, Sampson, plainly betrayed
Because you were not strong enough to admit that you are weak
You take it out on the mild and meek
You blame me because you can’t pull down those columns
Even though you couldn’t do it in the first place
You see
You tricked me
Because I loved your long locks
They made you who you are
I would’ve loved you with your weakness
I would’ve loved you with your scars
But you wouldn’t let me
You stopped the car
You handed me scissors
And asked me to char
The existence of your power
And when I said no
You retaliated
You made me hated
You turned from light to shaded
You grabbed the blades from my small hands
And sheared what was once grand
You became like any other man
And you blamed me
For stealing strength
When the choice was made by your palms
We could’ve been psalms
But you blamed me
Made me history
As deception
Because you could not admit
That I am stronger than you
That I always have been
And that you
Are just Sampson.

No comments:

Post a Comment