Poems

WHO CAN I TELL?

pam

A poem by a South Australian Mother.

Who can I tell that my child is Gay?

Oh, My God what will they say?

Telling my friends about my son,

I knew I just could not tell just anyone.

I had to pick the time and the place,

And openly tell them face to face.

My heart would be scared and skip a beat inside,

As I tried to explain, yet wanting to hide.

Who can I tell? Who will accept me as I am?

Boy it must be hell on my young man.

To keep a secret deep in ones soul,

For society says being Gay is not whole.

Who can I tell? Who can I tell?

For young Gay people it must be hell

As who can I tell my story to,

Who can I tell? Will it be you?

Will you still accept myself and my son?

Or do you want to just leave and run?

Run from the truth of another human being,

Like it is never to be heard or never to be seen.

Well I will tell you now and it is up to you,

To my son and myself I have to be true.

If you do not accept myself and my son,

Our friendship is over, over and done.

Because my son did not choose to be this way,

Nature’s genes are what makes human beings Gay.

So believe it or not it is up to you,

My son comes first and to him I am true.

True to him as any Mother can be,

My son is GAY, HAPPY, REAL and FREE.

 by Pamela D.V.W. 1994.

 

BEING GAY.

My young son came to me one day,

He looked at me and said nervously, Mum I am Gay.

I looked at him, hugged him and smiled,

I always knew he was a special child.

My only child and he is Gay,

What do you think I would say?

Well it was hard to assimilate at first,

For mothers have great dreams for their children at birth.

To grow up be happy, and marry some day,

So as I could have grand kids to take out to play.

So my dreams as a mother were not to be,

I was just so glad my son was at last free.

Free to be with his own kind,

So as his mother I do not really mind.

To know my son is true to himself,

Not trying to be somebody else.

To teach other people is now my mission in life,

TO UNDERSTAND HOMOSEXUALITY AND THAT IT DOES NOT MEAN STRIFE.

 

My son being Gay has brought me so much joy now that he is free,

He will always be the most courageous and precious son to me.

 

Pamela D.V.W. 1995

 

BELIEVE ME

You’re child’s needs are different than most

So hard to understand why?

Why us?? Why them?? You are thinking

And all you can do is cry.

Yes…both children and parents do suffer

Your child many years before now –

I know that you’re worried, just so much

Saying – what can I do and how.

Please!! – don’t disown your children

Or turn them away from your heart

Even though all that you’re feeling now

Is just tearing you apart.

Believe me when I say to you

That you’re going to be okay –

That your relationship with your child

Can improve as from this day.

Just be willing to read and learn

And then you’ll begin to grow

And the love you have for your child

Will grow stronger now that you know.

Believe me!

My life has taken on greater dimensions

Than I ever imagined it would –

And my love for my daughter has grown with it

More than I ever realised it could.

Believe me!

 

This poem was written by a South Australian mother whose life has been enriched through the experience of having a lesbian daughter.

 

Embrace Me

My teenage years are meant to be filled

with growth, fun, love and learning

But society tells me that I'm not worthy

and please! This is what I am yearning.

I'm young, I'm bright and Yes! I'm polite

I'm sociable and respectful, -- but Hey!

You tell me that I'm just not good enough

and why?? - all because I'm Gay.

When will you all come to understand

That like you, I had no say in the matter.

My sexuality - was not a decision by me -

Choice, recruitment - none of the latter.

I knew as a young child I was different

Of course, then I didn't understand why?

But now I'm a teenager I know what it is

And knowing this - I just wanted to cry.

Because, everywhere I turn, I'm filled with hurt

and despair at what I read and hear

People say that I'm bad, perverted and strange

and call me faggot, lezzo, poofter and queer.

Please, I implore you to stop this bigotry,

The homophobia and the hate, - the fear of attack

directed at everyone like me, who's gay

You know, all this, just sets me right back.

Further into the closet' that confines me

to a life of confusion, secrecy and doubts

of my own self worth, and right to be here,

Pondering - just what's my life all about?

Mum and Dad taught me that life was for living

Caring and sharing, loving our fellowman.

I want a chance to live my life, just like you have

Given that chance - I jo1ly well can.

And why should I not have this God given right

To contribute, be loved and be cared for

My sexuality was not chosen, it just "was" and "is"

Part of "me" -- and that's for sure.

Rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight - different

Not unworthy, just different from the rest that you see.

So here I am, I'm gay and I'm as good as you are,

I want love, respect and caring and oh yes! Embrace me.

Pam C.

Who is this young person? Your neighbour, your friend, your niece, your nephew, your grandchild...your child?!