A Girl is born,
How pretty is the little lady,
Having forty winks in the cradle.
Taken her,
The little angel
To the church,
The holy of holiness,
the house of worship, where
The god lives.
Saw with little eyes,
A little boy taken to altar,
By a man clad in white, whilst
A line was drawn, intact, between
Altar and the angel.
She is a girl, and the girl
Doesn’t know.
Excluded!!!
She cried loud at age twelve, seeing
Red blood flowing, that
Lasted seven days.
Went to the church, in pain
To see the lord god.
Said no,
The church, from
Meeting her savior.
Impure, the needy!
Excluded!
Crossed the age twenty three,
Stood in the church, with
A man beside.
Him tied her firm, with
A tiny piece of metal, and
Made a cage with rules,
Numbered many.
Excluded!!
Saw her in the church, in
The Right side, in
The singers folk, behind
Men, with a
Violin and not a piano.
Stays the dual word, in
The dual world.
Never saw her, in
The crowd, in
The dais, in
The Altar.
Excluded!
A girl born to her, the
Heir of the rules, offered by
The world
To her, and not him.
Seventy is not sweet,
Like seventeen.
Heaven called her,
Asleep in the church, at
The center.
Alas!
Saw her, in
The crowd,
On her final day,
Included!!
The heir of her rules
Said adieu, kissed
On the forehead.
Came a Man, to
Wrap her Face, with
The veil.
The heir, a lady,
Stood far away.
Excluded!
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