*Stick Label Here*

If I could change one thing

one thing that could change

It would be labels of who I am


All my life I wonder what others think 

Am I a nerd? jock? comedian? 

Am I a wannabe? ugly? short fat white girl? 

People see labels and they become labels and we all read each others surfaces

but what

what people forget is that I could be mislabled

they forget to read the back cover or the authors biography

I become a reputation and not a character

Why when when we describe someone it is always what they look like? 

Why not the description?
Are we running out of time? 

Can people not describe me as the young Editor-in-Chief, the humorous and intelligent, sarcastic yet charasmatic, passionate yet calm young woman? Is it people, or am I just not worth the breath? 

Are we losing time and speeding up our lives with labels? 

Online I google tall tan man with abs and there he is the man I'm supposed to adore


The lawyer the doctor the president


Labels are all created 


the teacher time the world space the universe


Me I am a label 

That drink you are drinking is labeled

because nothing is a blank slate and nothing is described on the surface


We must quickly learn 


To survive


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

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