I see tears clear with frustration,
Rolling freely as beads of perspiration,
Struggling to regain what once was concentration,
A known fate of castration is a replacement,
Misunderstood, wouldn’t give the chance to glance 
If they could,
Tapping endlessly on what should be
We stare into the face of that not meant to be,
A fight put up solely, willingly, 
slowly being lost
Singly,
Is this fate is to bring?
For thy can only see pain in ones eyes,
So much that pain cry’s its own tears,
But is that possible?
For that is what we ask,
For what we ask in our selves is logical,
To others that may seem not,
What we do is always fought,
I am right they are wrong,
I feel so, so they say I do not belong,
An opinion given,
Felt right in myself,
Though they take it as an insult, 
What more is there for me to do 
but simply close my mouth