by James Moody

Can I know how it is that you feel
Should I tell you what I see as real

Having been where you are now
Can mine become yours somehow

Does my journey to this time
Make yours any less than mine

Who judges me from their faulty post
Am I not the one that knows me most

Yet, for me to see me as I really am
I’d have to be a complete different man

I know I’m not gay
I know what I say

For what it is worth
That’s it from my birth

I didn’t choose, it was just me
Just who I happen to be

Did you choose
To lie or to lose

Did you hide of you’re most
To make an untruthful boast

Did you decide you thought you should be
Heterosexual to be just like me

Cause if you didn’t you too must realize
If seeing yourself as though through my eyes

There’s nothing of pureness for us to lay claim
If you and I are truly the same

Or did you
Before you were through

See a road filled with pain and much sorrow
Opt out for a less troubled tomorrow

After battling a grievous temptation
Much to your own consternation

Conclude to be homosexual
Was far too socially special

Decided just to hide
This thing you denied

And war against your brothers
To punish and make suffer

Did all these actions
Create such distractions

Veil the guilt of your shame
Ascribed to your name

But maybe one day
You’ll throw it away

To family and friends come to the open
Still loved by them all is what you’d be hoping

The center most issue of this moral war
Is the question of equality of each at our core

Of what we all are and will ultimately be
Unclouded and clear, truths we’ll all see

The choices you pride and think of as yours
To be as you want through perceptive powers

Never discerning from where you arrived
Those persons who cared that you may survive

Nurture and nature sums up who you are
The scattering of fruit seldom goes far

Your story was written long for you came
The one thing undone was knowing your name

The color of hair, of eyes, and of skin
Was never your choice from beginning to end

No pictures were offered of parents to be
No way you can alter your ancestry

If you are poor and low in your class
Or rich and successful, with no ceilings of glass

How did you arrive at your station in life
A wealthy free ride or through struggle and strife

Just be honest and then you might know
Of what you can claim as your choices and show

That all that you are was set from the start
And all that you’ve done is act out your part

James Moody's picture

I am age 67, a retired construction worker., Father of 5., Grandfather of 16, great grandfather of 2., Enjoy reading and writing, mainly poetry., Enjoy music of every kind.

Last updated April 05, 2016