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Rated: E · Poetry · LGBTQ+ · #2274046
Growing up with a gay friend was easy. I never understood why it should be any different.
Black, white, purple or gay.
Is it logical to fear the unknown?
Collin knew all about pride.
Before pride became an icon.

Things were different back then.
When 'Poofter' bashing was condoned by the cops.
Perpetrated by ignorant young men.
Whose lives were held up by props.

As kids, we laughed and played.
We didn't care about who, what or why.
Not once did he hide he was different.
He's my friend, I shouldn't have to justify.

At junior prom, we saw him dance.
On the stage which became his life.
His choreographed moves, like his hair, were slick.
In the musical, Grease...his talent was rife.

It was a spectacular show indeed.
There was no denying his star.
Even those who had taunted him knew.
That 'gay guy' was going to go far.

I had only love and admiration.
So proud to call him my friend.
He made me more tolerant and courageous.
Not super straight, nor gay, but with just a slight bend.

I imagine us talking about the old times,
If things got worse or better or remained the same.
To discover what he's become and if he is happy...
And how much ignorance and bigotry he overcame.


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