Second verse, same as the first.

America.


A Nation of Inclusion, Security, and Acceptance



Gay America.



A Nation of Inadequacy, Envy, and Exclusion.

Before

This is me...Straight Me. Dexter, if you will. He's outgoing, witty, brilliant, incapable of standing up for himself, but doesn't have any enemies due to his passive aggressiveness. He's secretly into boys, but keeps his feelings locked up inside a box under his bed. The bible is his favorite book and his best friends are all girls, most of them from his church. Every night when he lays his sweet, virginal self down to sleep, he utters this prayer " Lord, please let me awaken straight, I want a wife and children someday. I know that my feelings and lust are against your will, and I long to see your kingdom when I die." Off to bed he drifts. Morning after morning he awakens to thoughts of Mario Lopez and Ryan Reynolds. His hatred for himself grows with each breath. At school, rumors of his homosexuality brew under the whispers of his "friends" as he dances around the theater pretending to be Storm from the X-Men. Truthfully, he's a good, decent kid. He wished harm upon no one and loves a good laugh. A wide smile is draped across his face, doing its job. Hiding the pain, the inner torture. He walks by his locker and hears "fag" being whispered into the crowd. They all laugh. He runs. At home, in his bed, where it's safe, his prayer of change, is screwed into one of hatred. Hatred for a God that would leave him damaged and defected. He thinks that he's an abomination. A freak accident. Cursed. His parents are distant as a sunset in the early morning. They're perfect. They're straight. Who cares if they're liars, selfish, rude, broke, or depressed. At least they're not gay, he thinks. He would have given anything to be like them. To be normal.

He's never felt so alone. It's as if there's no one out in the world to lift his head and love him.

AFTER

This is me...Gay Me. Dexter, still, if you will. He's outgoing, witty, brilliant, and will put a foot up dat ass if disrespected. He has tons of friends and still no true enemies. He's into boys and everyone knows it. That little box is gone from under the bed and now he treads life with the dignity of being honest with himself and those around him. But, do not be mislead. His prayers still bleed with a yearning to be "normal." It is true that he recognizes that he's gay, but he doesn't fully accept it. There was a time when he loved being gay, but after emotional letdown after emotional letdown, he realizes still, that life would be easier if he were straight. He's a handsome man, charismatic, and intelligent. The guy can seduce a crowd, making almost any one fall in love with him. Well, women that is. Men, on the other hand, turn from him, as if he has some intangible terminal virus. He's never had a boyfriend and cannot fully understand. The process of courtship is ALWAYS played out like this:
Dexter: Hi.
Him: Hey man.
Dexter: Hey. I'm Dexter.
Him: Cool name, I like that show. haha, I'm (Rando cute guy), nice to meet you.
Dexter: Yeah, I like that show too, Rando. You're quite the attractive guy
Him: Thanks man.
Dexter: So, if you're free sometime, maybe you'd like join me on a midnight carriage ride through the woods while getting better acquainted?
Him: haha, you're cute, but I DON'T DATE BLACK GUYS.
Dexter:...uh, ahh, that's cool man. I understand. We could just kick it then, as friends.
Him:...
Dexter: Hello?
Him:...
Dexter:...

I don't believe in Love. Well, I don't believe that there's love out there for me. I do realize that being mainly attracted to white men is a downfall, and I also realize that everyone has a personally preference. I'm not mad at the men that turn me down. I'm mad at the life that I was given. If I were straight, I would have had a host of beautiful women under my belt. I would be possibly engaged and awaiting my wedding. I'd be on a blissful course to a family, a wife, and children. Instead, I'm 21, a virgin, and hating my current self more than I have my latter.

I've never felt so alone. It's as if there's no one out in the world to lift my head, and love me.