The Nameless Poem

From the moment I was given life,

I was given a name, told what to say,

told not to fly or else I’d fall off cloud nine.

I was given a choice, and given a voice,

but told to use neither, or I’d start a fire,

one that would burn everything down,

and turn everyone’s happiness around.

I was told what to wear, and how to act;

my life was based upon opinionated facts.

I was forced to act the same as everyone else,

and told to think about everyone but myself.

I was conditioned to be an obedient machine,

which is what I was never meant to be.

And my life didn’t matter to them,

as I was used as a pawn until the very end.

And what’s worse is that I believed it all,

that I could never stand tall, or else I’d fall.

But now I know that this isn’t how it goes.

This is not the way my story is to be told.

When I fly, I know that I will be just fine

as I will watch my wings open for the first time.

I will start a fire, and watch it slowly burn.

Your heart may melt, but you’ll still be well.

Nothing would burn down, and your happiness

would still be there, with no longer a frown.

I’ll wear the silliest outfit and we’ll just go with it.

We’ll fly to the moon and back and still be intact.

Because I am not the same as everyone else,

and neither are you, or you, or you, or you.

We’re different, and that’s what makes us unique.

Can’t you see that? Believe me, it’s quite true.

And I’ve decided to leave this poem without a name,

simply because it is not the norm, and I will not conform.

And neither should you.