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One
is young and foolish, one wild and free, one is married and single
And
the other, is cold and dead
Those
other black boys whom no one will ever comprehend
They
burn with strange passion for each other
Whimsical,
dreamy boys, no different from each other but all the same...strange
One
is young and foolish, one wild and free, one is married and single
And
the other, is cold and dead
He
dreams of strong male lover
With
a mind of ancients
One
that will tug at the fragile fabrics of his unbroken heart
That
kind of lover who loves to love to love, wandering the dreamy spaces of the
mind
While
slowly tugging at his finger tips on a jazzy summer night
He
is young and foolish, he has priest for a father
The
other is pink profound
Walks
around with feathers in his heart
And
a story that speaks a million tongues
He's
has an iridescent male lover, never cared for the musings of other folk
He
rides the crest of intuition and kisses his lover out on the street
Never
ceases to amaze little black minds under the covering of shades
That
stop to muse always
One
is a proportion of tall secrets
Walks
around with a halo on his countenance
He
is the master disguise, smiles with his ignorant wife and plays roles on and on
But
when he gets with his male lover, his crafted modesty falls
Layer
by layer his character peels itself to tunes of fear, lack of acceptance and a
struggle to stand in the eyes of his people
And
when his lover bends him over, his ignorant wife will cease to call him a man
The
last is cold and dead, simply because he had a male lover
His
own people buried his spirit with no swan song
To
colourless yesterdays and soiled memories
No
one knows his name
Only
his lover can see the truth of his countenance
And
the rest of his unfolded history is spit upon
One
is young and foolish, one wild and free, one is married and single
And
the other, is dead and cold...
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