POEM OF PRIDE
“It is pride month again. For those otherwise inclined, not fitting the norm. Some call it pandering, others simply enjoy the appreciation thrown their way.” Gun Roswell
Pride
What does it mean? Really?
It is just having a flag of colour raised up the pole for a duration of thirty days?
Wearing colourful socks or shoes, perhaps a bag of the same colour spectrum?
Being acknowledged at the work place, having pins placed on their lapels, sporting the rainbow colours?
The convenient store around the corner, displaying their pride collection proudly beside the register?
But for me? Personally?
Simply to be me, to exist, just the way I was intended to be
Not to be put in a box, designed by those, who would prefer to do so
I don’t ware any other colours than those, which suit my daily mood
Just because the calendar said so, and wanted me to come out of my home
I have and always will be, simply me
Acceptance or not, I cannot and will not change who I am
And so, alone or together with others daring, I make my stand
Celebrating each and everyday of the year, without fear
And so, tipping my bonnet to those, who chose this time to appreciate us, other folk
But also reminding them all, this month is not the only time we, queer folk, do exist