A Penguin can’t fly.
The poor flightless bird, confined to the land and sea, with wings weighing it down: gravity.
The girl who dreams to be a penguin, yet fly,
confined not by land and sea, but by those who focus on my—
how much I care,
according to how much I am willing to share.
But is that really fair?
I can’t be summed up by my style,
or what information and memories you find about me in a file.
Those supplemental sources of information cannot share anything truly worthwhile.
So I’m caught.
Caught in a web of ought-
Who I ought to be
What I ought to do
Where I ought to go
What I ought to wear
Things I ought to say
Likes I ought to get-
In the yearbook,
I do and be,
is not for me,
but for he and she.-
The invisible people I’ve yet to meet
Walking up and down the street
Sizing me up within a minute
But here’s the thing: they don’t get it.
I am more than what you see,
I am more than you assume me to be.
My photos and their witty description
can not pin,
cannot define my potentiality,
my complete diversity.
Yes, I have a bubbly personality,
and I am known for my accountability.
I tend to enter every activity,
and I embrace absolute absurdity.
But you picking and choosing what you decide defines me, is artificiality.
I am all that you see,
yet there’s more to me.
More, than I can even see.
I am a strong leader, but I am also a strong listener.
I am friendly, but I am also someone who tends to tread lightly.
I am kind, but I am also someone who will speak their mind.
I am a little bit strange, but I am also someone who will “be the change”.
So take a look,
Login to Facebook.
Scroll through your Instagram.
Because frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn-
How you see me.
Your conceptions and misconceptions of my ultimate reality.
Whether you like me or not, will not change who I choose to be.
I choose to be the Penguin who can fly…