Why We Still Don't Care

I'm revisiting an old poem…call it a form of poetic cheating… but I believe this old poem has a message worth repeating: When each of our three children and four grandchildren were born… we celebrated the day... Back then, we didn't care about their gender… if they were bi or straight or gay. We only cared they were alive...had all their body parts... that they were breathing on their own...and came with healthy hearts. As they've grown we continue to celebrate them a little every day.. and we care about them but we do not care… if they are bi or straight or gay. We only care that they are close to us...that in their lives...we play a part that they all have gentle souls...and kindness in their hearts Our reason is quite simple...and to this we both avow If we didn't care when they were born... Why...would we care now?