What is it, how can we tell?
Are we forced into it, a cell?
A trapped enclosure, a set of ways
Dedicated to telling one how to be.

Not inherently bad,
But dangerous,
When we talk about
Dreaded gender.

Keep your codes for morals
Let me wear my skirt.
My dressed all lay dusty
Because I was afraid I would be
Looked at
As lesser.

No longer,
For I am truly,
Not akin to a single
Form of gender.

The one true way
That of self-realization
Comes from the acknowledgement
That I am me
Male, female, none, both.
I am Bede.

Imagine a world where
Man can be who he wishes,
Never feeling sorrow
Or knowing the pain of the heart.
That wondrous feeling
Of freedom, contained,
Kept deep in the soul.
And I don't have this, I'm sorry I told
You a lie today.

I wrote this acrostic to tell the truth

I turned my back on God
Praying to those gods
Who rule over
Land, sea, and air.

I sing their praises,
Just like I used to,
And i got my answers,
My Muse remains.

They told me
What I already knew
Reminded me
Of why I see
Eternity within
Your finite form