I must take a wee
bit of thy time and tell thee of a man who I made the acquaintance of
this morn. I am sure you know him well...yes, that man. You know,
that man, the one down the street. His clothes, no doubt, are from
the 90's, he has a weird way he walks, and even a funny sounding rasp
in his voice when he talks. What ever did his wife see in him to
marry such a man; he's not even a wealthy man, for a wealthy man, we
know, would not look so!
You know that man,
that other man, he's old and lives alone, always a smile he has for
the children in the neighborhood but they all are warned to stay away
from such an one, for truly, he could not care about them; a pervert
on the inside must he be!
And that other man,
you know the one, sick and maybe dying from a rare illness. He should
have known better than to travel the world round and bring back a
sickness for us to share.
O yes, and I grimace
to call him a man, but you know that “thing”; I saw him today,
even the barbed wire and iron bars did not abate my uneasy feeling.
I'm glad he wears orange! They should just shoot him and save a
buck...I heard that he killed some other man!
But don't forget
that other man, you know the one, yes that's him, driving his exotic
car. Oh how I'd love to be his friend; his house is big and he's got
a “ton” of money! If I had such wealth I'd never work again nor
be bothered with all the little things in life!
And I could tell for
hours about that other man, you know the one, yes I'm sure you know
him well. You will find him all around the world, lands far and near.
I hear some are a bit too queer, some I'd love to hate and others I'd
hate to love, but they are all just that other man; nothing at all
like me! You see I have feelings inside this heart of mine. I laugh
and cry, love and care; you see there is me inside of here, skin over
muscle, muscle over bone; my color I can not change, my eyes are
mine, a nose that to me alone belongs. I've been rich, I've been
poor; I've been wise, I've been a fool; I've helped and I've hurt. I
just want to be happy, I just want to be me, without a facade to hide
behind and make you think I'm some other man!
Now standing in
front of the looking glass I see that I'm just another man; yes, that
other man, just like the rest of them; here we stand just like all
other men. You see we have feelings inside these hearts of ours, we
laugh and cry, love and care; you see there is us inside of here,
skin over muscle, and muscle over bone all to protect our hearts so
dear. Why O why have we let our looks become a snare, why do we not
love our own flesh and blood, how have we come to treat with
indifference all men who are just like us...All we are the same to
Him who loved us and gave his own self to save all men everywhere!
