He wakes up every morning
packing his things to go
this man is not a traveler
you see, he has no home
he pushes his cart to his spot once more
gets out his folded seat
sits down, leans back and closes his eyes
feeling tired and weak
the cars drive by some stop most stare
he tries to hide the shame
but with a secret storm inside he goes on with his day
nobody knows what hes holding back
as he fights to hide the tears
a secret that hes lived with
thats haunted him for years
see he was born much different
than most here in this world
still just one of many
he was born both boy and girl
with no control his parents made him
be someone hes not
forced to live life as a girl
all he wanted was to be shot
i know thats bad i know that rough
but its the honest truth
nothing did he want much more
than to fit in with the youth
like any other guy he knew
he had his crushes too
not able to tell the girls he liked
he stayed single all through school
in sports he went to the lockerroom last
(continued below)

(continued)

So no one else could tell
his life was a living nightmare
no wait, a living h*ll
i thought it would get easier
i guess the jokes on me
i know im blessed to be alive
but this is the last place i want to be
i try to get back on my feet
to find a place to stay
but shelters claiming to be christian
keep turning me away
"we have no room" the young man says
he lies straight to my face
because i wasnt born like him
he wont give me a place
last i heard the church was
meant to be a safe place to go
but they turned me away just the same
i guess it was all a show
the looks the whispers they cut so deep
the tears i cry are real
a freak an outcast a loser
these are the things i feel
it hurts more than i let you see
but now the mask comes off
the looks the way you make me feel
Its time for it to stop
i stand up now for all those
who were born the same as me
the ones you made to feel so bad
theyre no longer here to speak
being born this way was not our fault
(continued)

(continued)
How dare you lead us to shame
this could be your unborn child
would you treat them the same
"more of a man than youll ever me
more of a woman than youll get"
i write this poem both proud and strong
without a single regret
and now ill let the silence
speak for those whove gone
the ones like me that your words killed
and let the messge carry on

written july 3,2012 by Tahj Carrera

For years ive been ashamed to tell people how i was born. I lived with the looks, the whispers, the insults and jokes....i know theres other out there. Youre not alone. If ANYONE wants to stand up for those who cant speak up for whatever reason....find us at facebook.com/rx3 or you can search rx3 real recognize real. If you do not have facebook and want to get involved feel free to messege myself or my girlfriend qwertycupcakes94 for more information. Hate mail and messeges will be reported and ignored. #Rx3REALRECOGNIZEREAL

@D3VOTEDTC: that was beautiful what u wrote, an who r we 2 judge u? wat u are- we so aint god, hw u r dats who u r, an all the best 4u an others dat lives in dis god 4saken world..

Thank you

Oh u welcum, i dnt undastand hw cud a church person moreless turns u away, wats dat sayin- Love thy neighbour, love ur brothers an sisters- aint dat wat church ppl say, oh yeah an neva turn a blind eye. Bt as i z b4 Allda Best an SAFE JOURNEY

That was a very deep insight. I wish morw people had that kind of knowladge,it might foster more understanding in the world.

Thank you

@nhguyinwoods: i agree wit wat u z.