I'm not.
I'm not as big as her,
Or as nice as she.
But it doesn't matter—because my size is all you see.
I'm not as fast as him,
Or as smart.
I can't be good at everything right from the start.
I'm not as tall as her,
Or as skinny as him.
But what does it matter if I'm not thin?
It's my body; I didn't ask for your input.
By what right do you have to criticize me by how I look?
What right do you have to loose the insults you throw?
What right do you have to do so?
Why is the world so full of cruelty and hate?
Why does it matter to you what I just ate?
Why is this your problem? Why do you care?
What right do you have to ask why I wear what I wear?
Why is it your business what I do with my hair?
If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask for you to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Because I'm not, it's not, and you're not, so please keep nasty opinions on a shelf.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryI love writing poetry... it's a release, ya know? So I decided to write this. It's a collection of poems I wrote. Read if you want *whispers "please read this" quietly*. Uh yeah. Thanks. C O P Y R I G H T E D Thank you 😁
