I sometimes wonder what this life would be

If everyone could be accepted as

Themselves; just you as you, and me as me,

And them as them, and all that other jazz.

For if I must be judged I wish it were

Not by a label slapped on me at birth.

I hope the content of my character

And not my pants determines now my worth.

I’m not a woman nor am I a man

Nor any gender known under the sun.

It is this simple fact of who I am

That leads the world not to accept but shun.

          Yet I still know that I’m worthy of love

          Whate’er my gender—or my lack thereof.