For The Defiant

This is a poem I wrote for my creative writing class, and I hold it very dearly.

This is a poem for the defiant.

For all the kids who stand up for what they believe in.

For the kids who disagree with their parents views, and find their own beliefs instead.

For all the people who disagree with the way this country is right now. The ones who disagree with the government or the church or the common opinion.

This is a poem for the so-called rebellious.

For the ones like me, who don’t like that word, because everyone should have their own opinions instead of going along with what’s “politically correct.” Rebellion isn’t a real concept. It’s what they pin on people who don’t go along with the flow because they know something bigger is out there.

This is a poem for the people who don’t follow blindly.

The people who get up in the morning and don’t put on the most popular clothes, or listen to the most popular music. Or the ones who do listen to popular music. Not because it’s what everyone else listens to, but because it’s what they enjoy.

This is for the kids who get called “freak” or “f****t,” simply for enjoying life.

Creep. Weirdo. Queer. 

This is for all the kids who are so terrified of telling their family that they’re gay, or bi, or pansexual, or transgender because their family is immensely religious or because the world tells them they shouldn’t be these things.

The ones who get bullied to defeat.

The ones who decide that giving up on life is the only solution because they simply decided to go in a different direction than the self-proclaimed preachers of popularity.

The ones who refused to stand on pulpits of genericism, preaching to a crowd of blind sheep.

For the ones who chose to simply breathe, and paid for that decision by losing the very breath they chose in the first place.

This is also a poem for the strong. 

For the ones who hate going day to day because being themselves has cost them their place in this world of hypocrites and fools.

Or for the ones who don’t care what others think, because they would rather be themselves than give in to the self-fulfilling indulgent image that this world has to offer.

Come one, come all, purchase some paints but color in the lines.

No. I refuse.

This is a poem for all the others who refuse.

For the ones who listen to funk-fusion and Swedish black metal.

The ones who sit at home watching karate movies and wishing they were Bruce Lee.

The ones who have the courage to stand up to their friends and family because they have differing opinions.

The ones who know that it's okay to have different views than your closest friends and that it's okay to have the same views as your worst enemies.

The ones who make dumb jokes and laugh way too hard at them, even though nobody else is laughing.

Who wear clothes that don’t match because that’s what they like.

The kids who dye their hair weird colors.

For the kids who play the sousaphone. Or the ones in the back who play the triangle and love every minute of it.

And this is, most importantly, a poem for me. Because I know how you feel.

This is a poem for me, because I choose to do things I enjoy, and not things that will gain me beauty in the eye of the beholders of this world.

This is a poem for me, because from 2nd grade up until this very day, I get bullied for choosing to do so.

This is a poem for me, because I’m slowly learning to love myself.

And this is a poem for all the people who are learning to accept themselves as well.

This is a poem for the defiant, the down and out, the broken, the strong, and the outcasts.

This is a poem for you.