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Jeffrey Allan
February 19, 2013 in Volume Two | Tags: bullying, childhood sweetheart, faggot, farmboy, gay, homophobia, homosexuality, LGBT, murder, queer, RIP | 3 comments
This poem resulted from the murder, late last year, of our dear friend. Like us he had once been married and had both children and grandchildren. It is also dedicated to all of the other Jeffrey Allan’s out there who finally found the courage, but did so too late in life to fully live the life so long hidden behind closed doors.
Jeffrey Allan
Jeffrey Allan grew up on a small farm,
Outside a small town,
With a father, a mother and two older sisters.
His early years were spent
Surrounded by his paternal cousins –
Some younger, some older.
This was the basis of his young life.
As he grew up and went to school,
The circle of friends widened
To include other boys and girls his age
From the nearby town.
Early on he knew he was different.
His father was heard to say,
“Jeffrey Allan needs to play sports and not piano.”
“Jeffrey Allan needs to learn to toughen up and fight back.”
“Jeffrey Allan is turning into a sissy.”
“Why is Jeffrey Allan always playing house with girls and dressing dolls?”
Jeffrey Allan had a secret;
Jeffrey Allan knew he was more different
Than the other boys as he grew older.
He didn’t like sports or outdoor activities with his father and cousins.
Jeffrey Allan came to understand that his “difference”
Was that he was gay –
He really didn’t care for girls, although he liked them.
He was attracted to other boys –
Later in life, men.
Jeffrey Allan knew that he was
Homosexual. Queer. A faggot.
But still he kept the secret –
College degree and marriage to his childhood sweetheart –
Followed by a career and children,
Living in a closet,
Fearful of a society that was homophobic
In various, sometimes menacing ways.
Jeffery Allan found the strength
Before it was too late, to come out of the closet,
Self-exiled from family and friends all those years,
Only to be found dead in a dark alley,
One dark night –
The letters F-A-G spray painted
On his naked chest; his face battered beyond recognition.
His cemetery marker reads –
R.I.P
Jeffrey Allan
Loving son, brother, husband and father
September 2012