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.