A golden harp when heated oils my Rhyme,
I am an instrument of Feminine
arms, Love of Struggle for our Human Rights
that seals my Letters one line at a Time
in Transcendent Spiritual Ascension,
a force that drives my Sustainable
....is it Divine if it Glows without Stop?
Is it a Treasure of Humanity?
Is this a Fine Art and Letter I Kiss
though I wear a Scarlet Letter of Shame?
For I can weave a Righteous Wrong in Songs
embroidered in Silk, Cotton, and Muslin.
My rights are as Precious as Betsy Ross
when she Quilted her Flag in Stripes and Stars.
This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.
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