despised for being different
for not going with the norm
he can't change his sexuality

He knows it's a sin, that he shouldn't have been born
why couldn't he grow up
like the norm?

but what happens when the tables turn
when minority is the norm
when men and woman is seen as a sin

She longs for the hug of a man
but it is seen as a sin
it is not the norm
for a woman to be with a man

now look at yourself when the tables turn
when the gays are laughing at you
think about the consequences of your words
think about when the tables turn

The innocence of a child
is a wonder
that must be treasured
for only though a childs eyes
can the magic of the world be revealed

The problems I hear
how I long to help
but sadly the only way I can console her
are though words and virtual hugs
sent over the web in a series of 0s and 1s

I want to give her
the physical comfort I know she deserves
but we are separated by the vast expanse of land and ocean
between her home and mine

Most fear death
For it is unknown
What happens to the soul when the body decays
Death is not frightening
It is a destination that determines whether we are worthy of eternal life
Or if our souls are better of burned due to how much they've been soiled

Everywhere mocking
Their laughter forever ringing
They think were just sport for them to watch
we're not human to them

Merely a source of entertainment to them
A mindless puppet without a soul
Always pulling the strings of those they look down uopn

Controlling, manipulating, killing our souls
Cruelty seen as a sick form of pleasure
Our cries and pleads music

Clowns all around you
Drowning out your senses
Their only purpose is to remind you
That you are lower then ****'

Clowns humiliating us as though they know us
Thinking we'll forever be their dolls
Clinging tightly onto our strings for fear of the day it snaps
Where we'll be freed
and become who we once were

All focus is on the big picture
The grand scheme of things controlled us
To leave our mark on the world

Many try through big actions but their actions eventually fade in the wind
The mighty always fall when their time comes but......

The little things are carried in the breeze which travels throughout the ages where old memories rise from the dust floating in the wind