A Sonnet on Transgenderism
Are there not some truths which even Nature
Herself often slyly fails to make plain?
Who among us would have guessed that pleasure
Would be so nestled tightly up with pain?
Who would ever have supposed that all life
Was naught but variation on a theme,
Or think that Time with subtlety is rife,
And flows not quite like water in a stream?
Why then would anyone choose to presume-
Given Nature’s propensity for games-
That they could another’s Person assume
Without knowing all the workings of their brains?
Or that the fate of everyone on Earth
Was written in their genitals at birth?
[As you have probably gleaned, I vastly prefer ‘fixed verse’ poetry to free verse poetry. However, this represents my first attempt at writing in a well-defined form, namely a sonnet. Moreover, it’s also my first attempt at directly addressing my gender identity poetically. I would say that it suffers all of the shortcomings generally associated with a ‘first attempt’]