I survive, but am I spared
from the sight of the straight
in their bubble so constrained
their breadth of vision is incomplete
disregarding the consequence
of love’s influence most conceived?
Perhaps the best is on their mind
this does little good when I try
their small box has tall walls
ignoring joined infrastructure
when joy is the end result
matched complete note by note.
Denying the biology of my need
with their dogma pressed to page
of what love should always be
regardless of the plumbing found
when the heart is embraced
to find the one that does the same.
Against the backdrop of fearful signs
held so high to show their god
of the truth used to save the world
these definitions are held to breast
of the love they would deny
to me and mine as I survive.
2016, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20161126.