Who Am I?

By Brooklyn Johnson

 

Who am I ??….well, how kind of you to ask,

I am an outlier, better yet, an outcast.

 

I cannot be described,

so when you ask, “who am I?”

it’s not from my point of view but from the others,

I am eventually going to be someone’s mother.

 

I get no respect because I am a female ,

and the only time you get respect is if you are a male.

 

When I walk down the street, people look at me as if i have no decency,

as if being me was the worst crime of the century,

and I think to myself, how could I let this keep me from following my dreams,

because being me is a bad thing?

 

So when I look in the mirror and I see me,

I see a person with outstanding ability

Someone who has a huge impact on humanity,

Someone who you could never be,

You can’t compare me with the word “like” as if I am a simile,

Better yet, don’t compare me at all,

Because just like

THAT!

I’ll make ‘em all fall,

So when you ask who am I ,

I’ll look you deep in the eye and say,

I’m not the same,

And I’ll never be ashamed.