Reality
When I was nine, I aimed to
be a boy.
My hair was short, a simple pixie
cut.
I sought some lessons from my
neighbor, Roy.
He was inclined to help and
teach, somewhat.
He said that I should make my
hair a mess.
And I should like to run and
play in dirt.
And, Heaven’s sake! I shouldn't wear a dress!
And learning to play baseball
wouldn’t hurt.
We had a hidden fort and had
some fun.
We caught some frogs and
toads and things like that.
My interest in boys grew, but
not to be one.
That phase was laid so
squarely in the past.
I’m glad, back then, they
valued what was real.
For now, they dare to live by
what they feel.
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