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For Love

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What am I?
I'm a little confused...
Okay, maybe more than a little.
I'm confused about the men and women
who love other men and women,
in that order:
who have to hide themselves
from the shameful shade of the
(not villains)
but villainous people,
who live in a nation where being yourself
is legal but a crime
punishable with something
much worse than death, rejection,
and the loss of place in
the line to Freedom,
not that it exists anymore,
who go to trial for that crime
they didn't choose to commit
on the grounds of a religious figure
who may or may not exist.
Tell a kid he's nothing
and he never will be.
Tell a kid he's everything
and he'll be crushed when he never is.
Tell a kid that he's wrong to be himself
and he never will be.
If your religion thrives on love,
why tell that kid not to?
Tell that kid that love is the answer.
I may not be a part of the suppressed,
but I've witnessed the full spectrum.
I've seen a boy discover his true desire,
two girls fall in love,
a boy kiss a girl and a boy,
and a girl uncomfortable in his own body.
They're not criminals,
just people, living and dying
who face the tougher end of the sword.
Why would they choose this life?
Why would they want the oppression?
Because they had no choice.
Plant roses and violets,
Love Grows Both Times!

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