The Ugliest Duckling (it doesn't end where you think it ends- keep scrolling!)

Feathers weighed down by the grey colors

Of melted snow in a New York gutter;

Beak stained black with an unknown curse-

To die, or live looking like this, which was worse?


Wonky-looking, ostracized,

Might as well be ostrich-sized.

I tried to make myself beautiful

Took a dozen baths; the grey was unmovable


Covered myself in snow to be more viewable

Stuck my beak in paint because yellow was more suitable

I thought my appearance could be reducible


But the deformities that made me

were irrefutable.


Insults hurled from the barks of dogs

And my own family, so I moved on.

Flying, racing, pounding my wings,

My rejected body stronger than any duckling;


I never turned white- never ended up pretty

My matted grey feathers stayed

What a pity













Or was it? 












Alone but not lonely, I found myself;

In trying to integrate, I had lost mental health

But the years spent flying away from the hate

And rejection were farthest from far from a waste


Age had ripened the mind, and I saw:



Feathers accented by the grey colors

of the bustling snowfall of a New York winter;

Beak painted black with a deep rich ink-

Could you find more majesty in the great Sphinx?


Strong-looking, capable,

Like a dragon from an old fable.


My worth became scrutable

My confidence became unmovable.


I didn't cover up- made myself more viewable

Stuck my beak up high because it was more suitable

I don't want my appearance to be reducible


Because the deformities that make me 

are the most beautiful.


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