This is a poem that might be about me.
Or perhaps about you, alas let's go see.
You may be surprised to hear me say,
that I am almost never gay.
Did you think it funny? Did you really just laugh?
Like children you are to think of "homo" or "fag".
There is another meaning. This is not a silly joke.
For once gay meant happy, and not just homosexual bloke.
But I do know a few people that I must trust
did not laugh or grin or wince in disgust.
These are my friends. Yes, I love them all.
Whether big, little, short, or tall.
They are the joy, perhaps the only one in my life.
They keep me sane, away from my knife.
Without them? I do not know. I wouldn't be here.
Maybe I would be hung by a rope, or clenching back tears.
But I am here, at least for now,
Was this about me or perhaps for thou?
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. From the broken soul.
PoetryPoetry written over a time span of over ten years. This includes some of my darkest and lightest moments and the stories of others. Most deal with topics such as suicide, depression, family, eating disorders, religion, self harm, acceptance, recover...
