Mickle

It’s Mickle
his hazel eyes have laughed, sparkled
shone with joy, amusement, adoration
passion.
they have glistened with tears, flashed
in rage, desperation, stared wide-eyed
frightened.
his mouth has smiled, talked in fun, sang, shouted
praise, made promises. Puckered to kiss his
boyfriend
it has frowned, screamed for help, hung open
In horror, shock, how can they do this? why do they
do this
his name has been sweetly called, lovingly written
asked by teachers, squealed by his female friends
cherished
it has been shouted in disgust, hate, mocked loudly
sworn with. Its letters flung like sharp knifes at his
fleeing back
Mickle.

Whose poem would have been so much shorter
If he were not of a certain sexual orientation

When we fight for gay rights, we are fighting for Mickle
And the millions of other Mickles in the world.

by gina prettybrowneyes

Other poems of PRETTYBROWNEYES (56)

Comments (2)

Full of passion. Well-penned. Grandly delivered message. t x
You support gay rights? THATS SO 'SMEXY' yeah, Grat poem, screw, political correctness true love conquers all!