Remembering the prompt for this one is tough. Thinking it was that I had to write a story of someone oppressed with a classmate, senior year in high school. We ended up writing a simple rhyme with a message that I enjoyed, but I just don’t like simple rhymes. They don’t do much for me. Not to say this isn’t simple, just less so.
I wrote this because I got tired of hearing the word “gay” used as a way to describe things people don’t like. I have a number of gay family members who are some of the best people I know on this planet. Not to mention my other friends from all different walks of life. Love and let live.
So this was meant to have an impact and be pretty visceral.
All you have to do is spend a little time on the internet to see how frequent stories like these used to be, and still are. Marginalizing and mistreating people just because they are different from you is not okay. If it is something they have no control over, that isn’t directly negatively affecting anyone else — they deserve to be treated like humans with respect.
I was also just a fairly angry person at this point in my life. Going back and reading a lot of the things I was writing, I can see why my Mother was concerned about me. I have edited this significantly — the original work needed some help.
Human Just Like You.
There was a boy named Beau,
had a habit of wearin’ his mother’s clothes.
High-heels, lipstick, even pantyhose.
In his mind conflict would grow.
Sexual preference society would sew.
Beau’s first love — found in teenage years.
His name — Louis Stears,
Valedictorian senior year.
When Beau looked in those eyes he saw them gleam.
All he wanted to be — Louis’ prom queen.
Beau had a “problem”, one clinically and clergically prescribed,
in his world he was attracted to men’s thighs.
When Beau asked it took Louis by surprise.
He answered simply “No you faggot! You fuckin’ like guys?”
Beau turned around, went home and cried.
Louis rolled in with a forty-five and a shovel,
along with some friends to help move the rubble.
Louis broke in while Beau was in bed,
immediately the forty-five cocked to his head.
Louis stated “Any last words before I make you dead!?”
These are Beau’s last words this is what he said,
“I may be gay and a faggot to you,
but by pulling that trigger you’re killing a human,
just like you.”
Louis pulled the trigger and ended Beau’s life,
a brave boy who only faced strife.
Thank you for reading.
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