The Young Girl of Sandy Creek
There lived a young girl at Sandy Creek,
Different inside she thought she was a freak;
So she stayed out of sight and presented as boy,
Clothes stolen from mom were her only joy.
Discovery stole those clothes back from her,
So she grew to a man, and some called her sir;
She turned to God, hoped for love absolute,
But the people with Pride He did persecute.
Within the man she remained fully hidden,
Resentment and shame became her religion;
Salvation denied from Him up above,
She married a girl who she came to love.
They bought a house and filled it with children,
To provide for them was her only mission;
Upon family she brought her own life to center,
Then childhood trauma she began to remember.
Through eyes of a man as though a window of glass,
The girl watched as her life unspooled into the past;
She wanted the world to stop spinning around,
A break from the motion, the speed, and the sound.
In the prime of life she was wrought with depression,
The man that she was brought her gender to question;
Desperation fueled her unanswered prayers,
Toward Hades she fell through too many layers.
Amidst the spinning she did eventually find,
A few others like her, people of her own kind;
Her counselor encouraged a life lived of truth,
To live in the moment, focused not on lost youth.
The man that remains is very thin veneer,
The fog of dysphoria is beginning to clear;
With the fear and shame she can mostly cope,
To the future ahead, her eyes look with hope.