a mothers daughter part 2

The blossoming of masculinity is frightening and new, and I don't believe for a second that it is approved By the views of those around me who beat their Bibles and cry, that we're the ones going to hell even though all we do is try To be ourselves in a world that doesn't want us here, it seems to me that they only hate out of the fear Of the bold and beautiful pride that we wear with joy, I don't want anything more in this life than to be seen as a boy But I stumbled for so long into the arms of the faith, that their prayers and wishes on me weighed with a heavy weight I worry to take flight and leave that place behind, but I know that it will be worth it the truth that I will find Until I'm free I keep thinking about those who can't get out, those who have no voice and are waiting just to sprout And grow blossom and bloom into the lovely souls they are, but it seems these people don't want us to be seen as stars So shiny bright and new, just bursting with potential, instead we're forced to stick around like a utensil A pawn in their games and a thing to be molded, like the outcast Jesus to be forever scolded For the path we've chosen to take like lambs to the slaughter, but I refuse to be remembered as my mother's daughter.