If your children — those losers — are moving back home
even though they were told to explore and to roam,
treat the deadbeats with tact
and remember a fact —
it was YOUR DNA inside YOUR chromosome.
The hair on my head is no more.
I lost it at age twenty-four.
The X chromosome
made useless my comb
and brought shiny scalp to the fore.
A tiny girl, less than 995 grams God gave to us.
Born by cesarean, an emergency rush.
I thought all is well, counted 10 fingers and 10 toes,
But in hospital you had to stay, taking meds dose after dose,
Finally home, I rocked you to sleep but I dare not take a break!
With fiery eyes a hell of noise you will make,
Tiny hands will grab at my sweater
"Dad, I'm not asleep yet, you should know better!"
Only with specs you could face the sunlight,
My Lulu, with those specs you were just the cutest sight!
Schylar Rose you were named, but flowers you feared.
"Come on daddy's girl, scared of a flower but fascinated by my beard?"
After work i would say "Lulu, I am home baby"
Your laughter will light up the room, oh you gorgeous lady!
An extra chromosome you had,
"But that's just mean there is more of you to love" your mom said
An X and Y chromosome is in all males
And females only have the X chromosome
This has been the case for 3.5 billion years
But recently the Y chromosome is not so strong
Males they say don’t need the Y to be male
And if the Y continues to weaken
In 4.6 million years it would have disappeared altogether
So in the end I wonder what it all means.
© Paul Warren Poetry
You possess the body of a man,
yet you have so many feminine leanings
cascading through your mind
It makes you cry on the inside,
the way some people treat you so bad
Even your close friends make you wonder
if their motives are sincere
Do they wanna rule over you,
redefine and dictate you
because of your sensitive nature
You love being treated like a queen,
and you get so afraid of your rage
when others treat you cruel, treat you mean
And you don't understand why
you were given the physique of a man
You hate your big, strong masculine hands
Dreaming always of having the shape of a woman
Chromosome identity crisis program is running,
and you can't self-destruct the genetic code
Now you sing the condemned song
of a battle weary, testosterone trapped soul
You sing with fury,
filling your spirit with such fierce self-hate
Your passionate, accusatory cries against God
will prevent you from entering those pearly gates
Fuels my testosterone
My egocentric domineering
That’s 'why' feminism
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