He

He plays with the fire,
Internalises pain.
He hides the desire.
Hurts when moons wane.

He performs a role,
Decided when born.
Attempts to control.
Too long, has felt torn.

He plays the part well.
He walks talks and smiles.
He must be a girl
And learn how to shop miles.

It’s a complete lie,
Opposite is his truth.
Transition or die
And this is his proof.

He must be honest.
Recall who he was,
Before he was lost
In the land of Oz.

He’ll stand tall, be brave,
And know what is fair.
He’ll learn how to shave,
And cut off his hair.

Some people may laugh,
Or say that it’s weird,
And that it’s a farce,
When he grows a beard.

Though people aghast,
It can’t go awry.
He knows complete trust,
Now this is his cry….

“I am made with perfection.
I am me, no one else.
I don’t need Psych attention.
This is me in good health.”