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I love the way her hair turns in circles,
How she cuffs her pant legs to show her shoes,
The way she hikes her pants like Steve Urkle’s
How she only wears different kinds of blues.
If my parents knew they’d certainly cry.
Such disappointment for their only kin,
But if they knew they would surely ask: Why?
My religion would view me as a sin.
My mom says I am committing a crime.
My dad says I should not think about it.
My friends say they’ll support me in due time.
My therapist says this will go to ****.
My story has no home, it is a stray;
But this story has a plot twist. I’m gay.
A sonnet for those who wish they could be themselves.
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