Label Me Free

Faces of those around me,

Each has a different story,

A beginning, middle, and end,

And a perfectly integrated plot.

Yet, I am declared Faceless.


They don't see a story,

They don't see a face,

They choose to use a label.


They call me Epileptic,

They call me Freak,

They call me “Clinically Depressed”,

Because they choose to ignore my story.


They don't see a purpose,

In their lives or in mine,

They don't see a plot,

A beginning, middle, and end,

They choose to use a label instead.


Too bad, so sad,

They don't bother me.

I don't see their labels,

I still just see our stories.


I see our beauty, kindness, intelligence,

Our love, strength, joy,

Our peace, courage, loyalty,

Our creativity, determination, openness,

Our uniqueness, influence, integrity,

Our motivation, persistence, resilience,

Our righteousness, tenderness, sympathy,


I see the freedoms and possibilities within our storylines:

I see what I can overcome,

I see my opportunities,

I see limitations that I can surpass,


And I am thankful.


So if you label me, call me this:

Call me Happy,

Call me Grateful,

Call me Caring,

And, most importantly,

Call me Free.

This poem is about: 
My community
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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