They are without name and number
without face or memory
But still they live
As hungry ghosts
feeding on the crusts of bread
And the kindness of strangers.
But they are not unknown to us
The men and women of secret passions
The man who wore a dress and was arrested
Taken away in a wagon of queers
With hair cut short and wearing slacks
Like any gentleman on the town.
They are still here with us
Wander no more for we remember
Though we know not your names, we remember!
You who lived your lives on your own terms
Who broke the molds and lived
All in the name of love.
We honor you.