Fellow sufferers from the like malady
John Addington Symonds
I have reflected on my condition,
Asked if it is wrong
To continue with a love I’m told is wrong.
My enquiry found the answer
In reply to society’s calls,
And I present them to you in my fleeting song.
What is inside me is madness, a pustuled sickness,
Revolting, degenerate, depraved,
And I am its slave.
Those of you who suffer,
Who bear the same thorns,
Let me know if somehow you are saved.
Obviously, I do not believe homosexuality, or any other form of sexuality, should be considered as a sickness. However, Victorian medics believed that it was one – and it amuses me, somewhat darkly, that this antiquated research is the basis of so much homophobia.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic