In the Closet with your Skeletons and Skirts

by John Long   May 3, 2007


In the closet with your skeletons and skirts,
Clandestinely 'Cage aux folles',
Playing the caveman with a thunder face,
A let's pretend Neanderthal.

Back to work on Monday morning,
Can't change the world so you change your shoes.
Shave your legs and swap libido,
Let the bridges burn and fall behind you.

And what costume should the confused boy wear?
What would his mother think?
You have a prison cell that's all your own,
Where the bars are skin.
But in your own secret world,
You can be a girl.

You want to shout out from the rooftops,
Shake your fist in mock bravado,
But you're a headline for the papers,
Desperately trying to cover the traces.

Bold shades and pastels in your halfway house,
Is it time to come outside?
Where you will see that you are loved,
When all your tears have dried,
And in our flawed beautiful world,
You can be a Girl.

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  • 16 years ago

    by Daisy if you do

    This was a truly touching story. So sad for anyone afraid to be themselves. Yet your story is so true....the skin is our prison. It does not matter the lifestyle or orientation we choose it will always be our prison. Sad as it may seem everyone wants to condemn another for their beliefs and cover the trail of their own. The poem had a wonderful flow. You have done a great job with it although it is a very saddening subject.

    Dixie