I told them today, just as last time, when the pressure is high and I feel an urge to speak out. To explain, to tell of all the pain, there is in my minds Hell. I said, as I would that there are a compendium of reasons, but that the truth has stayed the same throughout the many seasons. I am not one of their kind and I don't think I'll ever be, I refuse this prison and the supression you try to place on me. Now the future looks uncertain, the waters ahead choppy, but at least I'm not alone, I can keep them with me. For I don't have to hide anymore, I can speak to them finally as parents, I don't want to fly away anymore, I just want them to understand my errance in their eyes.
The Prison I Call Home by Edward Brokenpipe

