Who are you to say I don’t belong here?
I have as much right, I’m sure,
to be here, to live, to walk,
to strut should it please me,
or dance to the music in my head…
I need not conform to some set of rules
meant to mold me to conformity,
to force compliance with edicts.
Not guides mandated by reason,
by civilization’s needs
but frivolities, the whim of fashion,
the command not to wear white in winter.
I’m me. I have the right
to be me. It’s none of your business.
But it’s nice to have more of my kind
who understand.