Pastor's Daughter


United States
29° 45' 35.0604" N, 95° 15' 47.592" W

Don’t tell me you know me, you do not

I’m not part of a stupid stereotype

I’m a person, the same as you

So kiss my ass you’re not my type


I’m not at a girl that works the street corner

I want more in life than to party

I don’t party all the time

I don’t just want a “good time” smarty


I’m not some easy little whore you can fuck around with

I’m not the Satan’s child

Fuck off you’re not worth my time

To say your insinuations piss me off, it putting it mild


I don’t act out for attention

I’m oppressed through the scrutiny of everyone waiting for me to screw up

I’m a lab rat being studied under a microscope, my every move being recorded

Well I’m ready for my fucking close up


I’m so tired of defending myself

I’m not a whore

I’m not a perfect angel

I can’t defend my name anymore


The more I try the more you laugh

I’m not oblivious to what you think

I know what you say

You best rethink


Can I call you a dumb blond, just because you’re blond?

Or “you’re skinny, so you must be anorexic”?

Or someone that lost a lot of weight, must be bulimic?

That person is stupid because they are dyslexic?


Eventually you are going to fit under a stereotype

Stop the bullshit

I just don’t understand the thrill it so obviously gives you to make fun of someone

Just quit


You’re not cute

Words really do hurt

I’m not going to be your one night stand, your friend with benifits

So shut the fuck up, because you won’t like what I’ll blurt


Now I know your true colors

I’m not a whore, or a slut, or a hoe

I won’t be treated like dirt

Leave me alone, just go


Why won’t you take no for an answer

I will not be treated like nothing

I’m a mother fucking person like you, although you act more like an animal

I’m not a thing


I understand we all use strereotypes

But it needs to stop

For the longest time I’ve felt worthless because of all of this shit

It needs to drop


I don’t want to go on, for the rest of life defending myself

It’s not fucking fair

I didn’t choose my father’s occupation, I didn’t ask for this

I feel like I can do nothing, but glare


I'm not a stereotype

I'm a person

A girl, a daughter

A daughter of a pastor, does this mean my future will worsen?

This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741