Your hair was once beautiful, a deep auburn red.
Why dump a bucket of purple paint on your head.
Your skin felt like satin, a pleasure to touch.
With the rings and the studs, I don't think so, so much.
What's with those big saucers, you wear in your ears.
Do you realize how stupid they make you appear.
The worst is that ring you've stuck through your tongue.
It makes me wonder, if your bell has been rung.
I cherish those photos taken when you were a kid.
Before you went to college and slipped off the grid.
When you were eager to learn, not be brainwashed.
Before our dreams for your future were handily quashed.
Each time I see you, It's a much bigger shock.
Like you've developed a huge mental block.
Your mom is your mother, not some "birthing unit''
I fear the day they talk you into becoming a eunich.
I can't keep up with your pronouns, they change every day.
Should I throw up my hands and just turn away.
Now you're telling me you weren't born a boy.
That your gender is fluid, that you've become a sex toy.
My dream of grandchildren has gone down the drain.
Those college professors have perverted your brain.
One thing I know, I rue the day, I sent you to that school.
Where they turned my son into some kind of swamp ghoul.
You're still my son and my hearts still full of love.
But the front door is open, let me give you a shove.
You're on your own now. it's time to kick rocks.
Nothing can be done, we can't turn back the clock.
D.L. Crockett -- 9/8/22