old dreams of picket fences,
family life,
and swinging benches.
have become fleeting memories,
forgotten,
tired legacies.
and in time, through fear and doubt,
acceptance,
now surging throughout.
for the man I grew to be—
proud and whole.
and with him, now free
here together, us as one
impassioned,
yearning to welcome
renewed dreams of finer fences,
family life,
and swinging benches.
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