Identity Crisis Diverted
There’s been times where I’m coasting through life,
Comfortable in the fit of my own skin,
I’d wake in the morning and smile at the new day,
And every minute of each hour would be felt as a win.
But although I was not in an identity crisis,
Or confused at the labels I wore as my crown,
There’d always be others who’d not quite agree,
And boy, would they try to turn my smile into a frown.
I’d hear rumours behind my back that clearly showed
That they were struggling with the very identity of me,
Snob, idiot, mole, whore, bimbo, dumb blonde, just to name a few,
But clearly they’ve no idea exactly who I could be.
For awhile they had me questioning my beliefs,
Could it be me that didn’t know my own worth?
Was I a lowdown deserving of such names?
I struggled with the opinions they seem to unearth.
Until I realised they’ve no idea who exactly I was for real,
What with their limited knowledge and lack of truth,
How could they possibly know my authenticity?
They just showed their true colours as an amateur sleuth.
From that day forward I wore their labels with pride,
Laughing at their antics as I continued my march,
My identity intact, I survived their assassination,
As my favourite mantle was hearing them call me a biarch.
Thank you for reading.
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Please visit my website if you’d like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.
Originally posted on Vocal.