I realised  my feelings were absurd

We all  have got the urge to power, to kill
Better go out now and make your will

Jesus was not meek nor was he  mild
God created tigers and  the wild

Why should people fear to say  they’re wrong?
Errors can  arise or come in gangs

I’d like to go to Bournemouth but I can’t
I see the mad profusion   so I’ll skype

I learned to play the cello I loved so
But other plans were made and I let go

The strings were made of gut and they were thick
I played with a long bow, or I could pluck

I did not wish to earn by using words
I realised  my feelings were absurd

I could have written books and  gone abroad
I could have worked at Bletchely breaking codes

I did not realise I was a girl
Despite the  bearing of some golden curls

I liked boys’ games but I am not trans
I like making cakes and washing tins
I liked men to  give warmth to my bed
Although my only true love is now dead
Am I  banned from meeting any more?
They fear my mind and run out of the door.


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