Methinks he doth protest too much About the abomination of perversion, And of those unnatural sexual urges By which some men are so sorely tempted. Is it not an old adage such such comments Are but a case of hidden desires Of a similarly 'unnatural' nature Suppressed through innate guilt and learned shame? He who struggled against his own dark needs For manly cameraderie and love, Succumbing only to sordid secret acts, Who fought against self-admission of shame By feigning romantic love for ladies Is now enraged by gay liberation, Outraged by the love that now dares To speak its name and to embrace in public. For he knows that his time for an honest love Has gone and only dry ashes remain To embitter his few remaining days. Methinks he protesteth too much. Author's Notes: Dedicated to sad people who can't come to terms with their own nature.