They said I wasn't real
because I hadn't slept a man
they said I was a fake
because a woman was not in my bed
proof conceived by a litmus test
they'd not apply their own kind
I mean the babies coming up
with desires aligned to the lateral.

They drew the lines in the air
rules applying to themselves
transferred by a thoughtless voice
seeking application to my soul
this I reject because I must
upsetting as it may be to them
I cannot lie about who I am
why is this difficult to comprehend?

Attraction was not real to them
when proof came from what they saw
my proof felt for decade's length
was transparent to the opinion's view
they judging the sum of intimacy
on only their applied anatomy
where the things plugged and played
became was the standard for totality.

If I found comfort in another's arms
the ****** switch from adam to eve
or visa-versa, this would be my way
this would not change my destiny
I'd still be real unto myself
regardless of what they have to say
I'd still find the beautiful
in my self-made reality.

© 2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170511.