By Bernard Quince
I am told to reach out
but not to touch
I am told to ask
for anything except someone to listen
I am told men are strong, but I am allowed to be weak
When I am weak, people disappear
I am told to speak up, people are deaf
I am told to speak out, for the people without voices
When people speak for me, they have the wrong message
I am told to correct the wrongs, but only to make the world
acceptable to others.
I am told to make the change I need, but within the reason
of people without reason, with permission from people
I do not know, and who not be affected
I am told to turn to people for help, they turn away
The world turns, it turned before I lived
It turns without me, it turns with me
the world turns my head with its beauty
I can't say 'beauty or 'gorgeous'
People are offended and I am perverted.
I am perverted for a honest complement
This is what I hear, when I listen.