Why, My God?

Why, my God, did you make me this way

Only to tear my attractions away?

To those who tell me my orientation is wrong,

I never asked to be born with a life long

“Problem”, to be stuck in my own head.

With this type of life would you even get out of bed?

Why, my God, did you put me in this place

Where my own self-hate won’t get out of my face?

When I finally feel natural and right,

Somebody tells me I don’t (and won’t) have the light

And at many times, it’s me.

I am my own worst enemy.

Why, my God, did you give me this mind

And this idea that, obviously, I must hide behind

My doubt and my fear?

That one person of my dual self must disappear

In order for me to be right and real?

You know, I wasn’t born made of steel.

Why, my God, did you give me a choice?

It’s actually impossible for me to rejoice

In the state that I’m in now!

All it does is make me want to say, ‘ciao!’

To everything I hold dear and all my memories

And everything I ever loved fades and turns to worry.

Why, my God, did you make me this way

Only to pilfer and wrest all of my love away?