The judging looks and hidden smiles
As I walk down a path stretched miles
By the humiliation I always feel -
My identity I attempt to conceal.
Once, I was there, in that other group’s place,
Trying to hide the growing grin on my face
As a girl in a kilt, with a blazer to match,
Had the courage to walk through our prided patch.
All I saw then was smugness and a look of disgust
When she strutted past us like we were part of the dust.
But now I know how that girl must have felt
Outcast, embarrassed, by the judgement we dealt.
More than anything I long to utter the words-
To turn, and say “Sorry, but haven’t you heard?
“I’m not rich, I’m not posh, I live right round there
“And, this might be shocking, but it’s not all that rare
“For someone like me to have been someone like you
“Free, independent, always speaking the truth.
“Just because I wear this and go to school here
“Doesn’t mean I meet up to go hunting each year,
“Or drink champagne in buckets and eat caviar for tea -
“All it means is my stupid gay school has a fee.
“I’m no different to you, and I don’t think I’m better -
“For Christ’s sake we even have identical sweaters!”
But I can’t and you think
That I look like a prick
So as I walk past I must gather my pride
And hold my head high as I strut past your side.