He walks down the hallway,
Hears "she" and "her,"
And it burns a hole into his soul,
Already wounded by pain and hate for who he is,
He smiles through the pain,
Through the "daughter's" and names that don't belong,
Yet he still stands,
Soul battered and bruised,
Feels like the weight of the world,
Proving everybody wrong,
Trying to be "man enough,"
But he just wants to be himself,
Want to hear "son" not "daughter,"
Wants to hear "he" not "she,"
Wants people to understand that this isn't "just a phase,"
Because he's felt this way as long as he can remember,
He hopes that people will understand one day,
That he won't have to hide anymore,
That one day he will be free,
That one day he'll stand,
Proud of who he is and has always been,
Proud of his scars and the journey they represent,
Proud of his freedom.