My skin blends in with my surroundings.

I am the backdrop, not the foreground.

I scurry across the dirt

and waltz upon the leaves

Unless in a safe place, I am silent.

I dart for cover

If anything looks at me,

I look back with my awkward face

Texture is to my advantage

I may be rough as a rock

Or smooth as stone

Both show that I can hold my own

I can be covered in down

Or chantilly lace,

But the look never corresponds

To my peculiar face

Color is my convenience

Color is my cover

Color is my curse

If not one separate color,

I am a different shade.

If not brown, then tan.

If not dirt, then sand.

To my teachers I may be yellow,

To my friends I may be pink,

To my teammates I am purple,

Or whichever color for that day of the week.

Sometimes I am more complex,

Featuring Robin’s Egg Blue,

Razzmatazz red

Or a lively chartreuse

Bright and fun

These colors may seem

But in the jungle

They are too extreme

A predator’s eye

Can be caught with ease,

Colors that can hurt me

Are too easily seen

Much of the time

I am about as integrated

As a hunter’s orange vest

In the sea of green.

I try to be neutral,

I try to fit in

But sometimes I can’t hide

My neon skin

I am a reptilian freak

Among cute koalas

Among talented toucans

Among graceful jungle cats

I am either the irrelevant backdrop

Or the one who stands out obnoxiously in the crowd

No one ever sees my true color

For I am the chameleon among the trees