If I Were
He tells me he's gay and watches my face. "Well?" he says.
A thousand thoughts flash through my head,
But they come down to this:
I am not his father.
If I were, I might ask "why?"
I am not his priest or pastor.
If I were, I might give him advice.
I am not an old girlfriend,
If I were, I might be mad.
I am not crushing on him,
If I were, I might be sad.
I am not his best guy-friend,
If I were, I might be unnerved.
I am not the school bully,
If I were, I might call him a perve.
I am not God,
And only then could I judge,
I AM his friend,
So I'll accept and choose to love.
"Okay," I say, with a smile and shrug.
He relaxes a little and cracks a grin, and I know I've done enough.