I am the black sheep
The rejected one
I have come to know the familiarity of closed doors
Turned backs
Frozen hearts.
No one knows the pain of having black fleece
To be the bastard child
To live an entire lifetime replaying debts owed by ancestors.
It can all get better if the black fleece is removed
Shed and thrown away with all its stigma
With all its unpaid sacrifices
Can it be painted white to fit in?
The tables would turn then
The tears would stop flowing
The rumors would stop
Doors would start opening
Friends would remain faithful
Hearts would be melted
On the outside I would look different
Prettier
Happier
But on the inside I would know
Only I would know
That I am still a black sheep
A bastard child
No matter what I do
Where I go
What changes I make
One thing will always hang over my head
I am the black sheep
The Rejected One
The bastard child
