I confused my teachers

When I refused to talk about my dad

I told them that he didn't matter

And that my moms were all I had.

 

When speaking about them in Spanish

I opted to say Madres instead

For I could not bear to be close to that man-

To me he might as well be dead.

I once had a teacher ask me, 

"What does your father do?"

I replied "I don't see why

that would have anything to do

with me, nor with you."

 

I had a classmate ask if I was gay

Because my moms are, too.

So I asked them "If you hang out at Starbucks too often,

Will you become coffee, too?"

And to this I recieved a strange look, 

For she didn't quite understand

That my seeming non sequitur

Was related to the topic at hand. 

 

My moms have taught me many things in life, 

One thing being that I don't have to be

The kind of girl that likes other girls, 

That I just have to be me.

And my peers may say that I'm going to burn 

But I don't think that they know, 

That you can't be counted against for how you were born, 

And a spot in Hell is a place you must really earn.

 

I don't understand why people care, 

If I'm raised nontraditionally,

I mean, America was built on breaking traditions

And this is the land of the free.

So I apologise if I've offended you,

But I'm under freedom of speech,

 And I am forced to listen to homophobic lectures every day

While you CHOSE to read me.