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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem dedicated to my best friend Nick. Gay, out and proud for over ten years,

Submitted: August 31, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 31, 2016



When we were kids our parents took bets,

On how long it would be until we wed.


If they only knew what we know now,

And what he knew even then.


He is everything that his southern Baptist mother fears,

Everything that his absent, tough-guy father hates.


When he came out a lot of words flew.



Whose fault is this?


No one's you idiots!

He was born this way!


The church won't cure him Mom,

Neither will the military Daddy dear.


Listen now and listen close.

Your son's a fag,

A homo,

A queer.

You'll be hearing those words a lot.


Stop passing the blame for the way that he is,

He's still the same as he's always been.

© Copyright 2018 Aimee B. Melancholy. All rights reserved.

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