Don't tell me you're surprised.

You told the jokes.
You changed the subject.
You defined fag.

He fit your defintion.

You laughed along with them.
You changed the channel.
You defined fag.

He cried at your defintion.

You laughed at their pain.
You crossed the street.
You defined fag.

He loathed your defintion.

You laughed at his confession.
You told him he was wrong.
You redefined fag.

He died of your definition.

So don't tell me you're surprised
that he took the pills you gave him.

I've been thinking about homophobia lately. And as a result I've been thinking of gay teen suicide lately. It's been estimated that one teenager takes his or her life every five hours because they're gay or lesbian. The homophobia that hurts the most is the homophobia found at home. When you're dad laughs at fag jokes, how can you ever tell him that you're gay? When the extent of discussions over homosexuality in your home are no longer than "stupid faggots", you aren't going to admit you have feeling for people of the same gender. You live a lie. And sometimes, way too often, you take your life so that you can be free at last. Why are we surprised?

I dedicate this poem to http://www.jokes2go.com/jokes/cat25_1.html. (The webmaster of jokes2go.com was nice enough to send a reply email regarding my poem. Click here to read the reply.)