Her mother was gay

When her hand touched his,
Nerves started throbbing, emotion growing,
Did it mean anything?
Eyes met eyes, minds were to fly.
No, hesitated she; air changed to wall.

No will to choose,
Then wall seperates two.
Blossoms are hard to pick,
When you fear the height.

She put her hand on her forehead,
Stood up looking at him, saying to herself;
Just evade his eyes, everything will be fine.
Looking at the cars felt his hand go cold,
He pulled his hand away,
I certainly was not gay.