by Merkin


Didn’t grow up in the inner city,
Never been beaten so bad I could die;
Wasn’t torn open with the end of a broomstick,
Didn’t get dumped on some hospital cart:
But I’m gay, too.

Never slept hard on the floor of a trailer,
Wasn't sent to bed hungry, or bleeding, or bruised;
Haven't hated my mother or hid from my father,
Wasn't locked in my room, or out of the house:
But I’m gay, too.

Haven’t been passed from family to family,
Didn't run ‘til I just couldn’t run any more,
Haven't searched through the trash for food to survive on;
Never peddled my ass to get money to live:
But I’m gay, too.

Wasn’t so small I couldn't resist them,
Wasn’t so cute that I looked like a girl;
Didn’t spend every day looking over my shoulder,
And fear every classroom, hallway, and street:
But I’m gay, too.

For my brothers who paid such a price without freedom,
In a coin I’ve never yet had to spend;
I'll declare to all others the ransom you‘ve suffered,
And lift my head high, and stand tall, and shout out:


This poem is Copyright © 2008 by Merkin. It cannot be reproduced without express written consent.
Codey’s World web site has written permission to publish this poem. No other rights are granted.