Protect our children. Through marches you stroll
In hopes the youth will embrace the places
God placed them. You scream slurs in the faces
Of children claiming love is in your soul.
With love you hate them, beat them, murder them
Until the only part left is the shell
Of the person who made their life a hell
That they can’t bring themself to return from.
You will not force these once innocent youth
To end their lives for the chance to live with
An outside image matching their brave soul.
We will have marches of our own. The truth
Is that your tale of normal is a myth
And we have the faith you believed you stole.