POSTCARD FROM THE LEDGE

POSTCARD FROM THE LEDGE
         (FOR GAY YOUTH)

It gets better if you wait awhile,
The flood gates open, then you smile.
The bully and the terrorist
Give way to an amethyst.
The shining man of all your dreams,
Waits patiently behind the scenes.
So put away the razors, 
Put away the hangman's noose,
Hitch your wagon to a star, 
Rejoice, be young and footloose.

It gets better if you be yourself
With a great big exclamation.
And let the madmen mutter
Their words of condemnation.
For the time will come when good fortune pours
Its sweetness softly into yours.
When hate and fear turn into dust,
Since time began, it's been ever thus.

And living well's the best revenge,
In this or any season.
Take pity on the sons of bitches
Who hate without a reason,
I speak from my own history,
Which surely you can trust.
A past where all the bastards dared 
Yell faggot from the school bus.

When I knew that I was different
And that I did not belong.
Yet still I knew that deep within
Was a new and glorious song.
Then college and the roommates
Who gave me the cold shoulder,
And I felt a lot like Sisyphus
Weighed down by his boulder.
Frozen out and living in a silent, scornful hell,
Until I met likeminded souls,
Who smiled at me and wished me well,
Who took me underneath their wing,
And taught my spirit how to sing.

It gets better if you give it time.
Fast forward now to out at work,
To a lover so divine.
Who wrapped my wounds in silver threads,
The man with whom I now reside.
Fast forward past the bigotry,
Fast forward through the tears,
Fast forward through what now seem an avalanche of years.
Such a waste to end it all with a twitch of a trigger finger,
Better just to wait it out, ignore the slings and zingers.

It gets better if you wait awhile,
The flood gates open, then you smile.
Put away the razors, put away the noose,
Put away all errant thoughts, rejoice, be young and footloose.
If your life ends, the bastards win.
So thumb your nose at all of those
Who dare to push you o'er the edge,
And live to be a man like me,
To write your postcard from the ledge.

-Bruce Potts
Revised Copyright 2015
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED