Jesus' I am so done,
with loneliness at worst,
sometimes people say,
I don't deserve to be gay.
I miss those days,
in the chorus of chide,
Even plectrum of woe
ringing mourning string's toe
I have all in my pocket,
nothing left to decay.
Though sometimes people say,
I don't deserve to be gay.
Once childish deeds joyed,
now maturity calls it foolish,
I find them my bugs,
my well wishes my hugs.
No religion put impact,
my mind could mostly giggle,
some tempting thoughts that's it,
Else everything was illegal.
First try then to cry
that's what maturity play,
Sometimes people say,
I don't deserve to be gay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem