My journey is your journey
    that there is no doubt

Seems like yesterday I thought otherwise
    perhaps when you called me a lout

But now I know better; this epiphany
    makes me want to rise and shout

Just like those types from San Fran
    who from the closet have chosen to come out

This love I feel that will never know an end,
    do we share with others or do we flout?

It matters not whether the path we take
    is cracked, clear in need of some grout

I know you’ll help me when I sometimes stumble,
    for every once in a while I get gout

This journey is a union, a trek heading
    the same way: we’re simply taking different routes


June 5, 2005
10:00 a.m.