http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
No matter who or where in the world, there will always be those who find the love of their life and those that will never quite make it. Some, like your truly, are teased by fate; we find it, only to lose it again. Yet, true love found is never lost, even in death; it lives in the heart forever and remains an essential part of who we are.
Now, sometimes gay readers email me to say I am a “fossil” or a “dinosaur” given that no one cares about whether a person is gay, bisexual, transgender or whatever; they urge to get real and join the 21st century. Sadly, we must agree to differ. In many societies and homes around the world, LGBT folks are still being rejected and/ or made to feel they are less of a human being than anyone else.
Nothing is more awful than feeling rejected by family and friends or made to feel it is so likely a possibility that LGBT folks are still forced into a closet existence for fear of rejection. It appears to be happening less, I agree, but that it should happen to anyone, anywhere at any age, continues to put the 21st century to shame.
A gay reader has asked for a poem for his closet boyfriend who “… loves me, I am sure, but wishes he wasn’t gay and is too scared to come out to family and friends in case they call him a perv.”
In my experience, where family and friends really care about a person, they won’t stop caring, and they will say so; those hung up on stereotypes may take a little longer to understand how they have been misled and should be forgiven for that. I only wish I had come out to family and friends when I was a young man instead of staying in a lonely closet for years; few people knew I was gay until ai came out at the ripe old age of 40 some 35 years ago. My only excuse is that attitudes towards LGBT folks were different then, invariably hostile.
Things are different now, yes, and all the better for it, but many of any LGBT persuasion will continue to risk rejection wherever stereotyping, fake news and plain old-fashioned bigotry are alive and kicking. We just have to show we are better than that.
This poem is a villanelle.
PRIDE IN LOVE
Years ago, I was told only perverts are gay,
of
love, a gay heart would never learn to sing;
I realised how lonely I’d been the same day
Gay
love, though (and true) chanced my way,
as
we ran for shelter when it started raining
(years ago, I was told only perverts are gay.)
We‘re exchanging grins, nothing much to say,
raindrops
making merry on the shop awning;
(I
realised how lonely I’d been the same day.)
Soon
we were chatting in a light hearted way;
ice-broken,
we embraced a feisty thawing …
(years ago, I was told only perverts are gay.)
We
were mutually attracted, come what may,
each
seizing on the chance of a happy ending;
I
realised how lonely I’d been the same day …
Love
and sexuality, they would have their say,
much
peace and joy to us would they bring;
Years ago, I was told only perverts are gay,
(I realised how lonely I’d been the same day.)
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