In first grade, I was the bright girl with almond eyes,
My eyes quite brown, even amber in the sunrise,

My skin always tan, bronze from summers of swimming,
And the endless hiking,

I did my homework each day,
And words of a wide vocabulary, I could say,

I was devoted to the arts of learning,
For new knowledge, I was forever yearning, 

My grades always top tier, 
But, something was said, at the end of the year,

That still haunts my memory, 
The moving of my teacher's lips, I still see,

And, to this day, my father repeats it, it now being a jeer,
Able to shut down my brightest cheer,

Over that smog, I cannot look beyond,
Because, dear reader, I should have been a blonde.