Tick, Tick, Tick



The fruits of your mind become rotten with ease,

if you toss them around as carelessly as you please.

"You're a fag"

"That's so gay"

Your mouth runs off quick.

There's a soft sound inside me,

and it goes "Tick, tick, tick"

Throwing insult to injury,

a hard life made harder.

Is it really so wrong to have two mothers and no father?

Love is love is love is love,

you're wringing the neck of this beautiful dove.

"I don't mean it," you say,

"it's just modern slang."

I wonder, how would you feel,

if I had used your name?

"That's so 'insensitive jock boy with ears much too large'"

"You're just a tall white girl who thinks she's in charge" 

Take a moment, if you please,

to step out of your zone.

Can you imagine the feelings of pain, how alone,

would you feel if the way you were born was rejected?

To take a knife to your heart and remain unaffected.

So I hope you feel nauseous if you think you can say,

without consequence, "Dude, you're being so gay"

and remember the beautiful fruits of your mind,

are rotting with each careless line.


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