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Post by Daphne on Sept 26, 2011 8:40:02 GMT
Methinks he doth protest too much About the abomination of perversion, And of those unnatural sexual urges By which some men are so sorely tempted.
Is it not an old adage such such comments Are but a case of hidden desires Of a similarly 'unnatural' nature Suppressed through innate guilt and learned shame?
He who struggled against his own dark needs For manly cameraderie and love, Succumbing only to sordid secret acts, Who fought against self-admission of shame
By feigning romantic love for ladies Is now enraged by gay liberation, Outraged by the love that now dares To speak its name and to embrace in public.
For he knows that his time for an honest love Has gone and only dry ashes remain To embitter his few remaining days. Methinks he protesteth too much.
Author's Note: This poem was originally written for the self-confessed "old school" proud homophobe, Mikle Scribes, at PoetryShared. He deleted it and organised a ban for me there. Enough said.
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Post by Wee Angus McWordy on Sept 27, 2011 10:22:39 GMT
Guid poem, Daphne (crawl! crawl! tae the Admin)! Ah cannae stand poufs mahsel. Wee short lifters are no' mah scene, but live and let live, eh?
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Post by Daphne on Sept 27, 2011 12:08:34 GMT
Thank you Angus. I am tempted to point out that the kilt is a skirt, which gives excellent access to the nether regions.
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Post by Fraser Allonby Q.C. on Nov 2, 2011 18:03:10 GMT
This poem has much truth in it. I have met many a repressed homosexual who pretended he was straight by using nasty words like queer and bender.
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