Thoughts in Bold Ink

Words of a Misunderstood Landform

My name is Australia

I love what I am; whatever that is

Am I a continent or an island?

Some say I'm too small to be a continent

But the contents within can sustain that of a country

Some say that I'm too big to be an island

But having a lot doesn't mean you're never lonely

I've waited for the world to decide what I should be

Because, apparently, being unique is a red flag

I gotta be one category

Lest I be a mistake

So England, an island that became a powerful kingdom

Sent me its leftovers

I'm shocked because I thought that England

Could relate to my pain in a way

I could believe it: England made me feel like I was too fat

The Caribbean, made of many small islands, have each other

And I used to be jealous because I'll never have that

The Americas, once unnoticed, uncared for, unloved

Became popular, very popular, and I

Grow into something beautiful, but my "label" is still a question

But do I really need one?

Last time I checked, labels held you back

Trapping you in society's expectations

And until you break free, you'll never know greatness

Now, my very existence defies all those stereotypes

That would have bound me if I could only "fit in"

How beautiful to not fit into social slavery!

I am Australia, and I am amazing.