I sometimes wonder what this life would be
If everyone could be accepted as
Themselves; just you as you, and me as me,
And them as them, and all that other jazz.
For if I must be judged I wish it were
Not by a label slapped on me at birth.
I hope the content of my character
And not my pants determines now my worth.
I’m not a woman nor am I a man
Nor any gender known under the sun.
It is this simple fact of who I am
That leads the world not to accept but shun.
Yet I still know that I’m worthy of love
Whate’er my gender—or my lack thereof.