Name

Name

They shaped it different
Replaced a letter, added another.

Later,
as I grow. I hate it.

Why can’t I be fluid,
graceful as all the other children.
Or rough and straight forward.

It’s the pause in attendance,
the look of panic and a trill of dreed.

All we have is our names.

Mine is a mix of letters,
a jumble of sounds, all mispronounced. 

Later,
as I figure it out. I still hate it.

I’m knobbed kneed,
awkward as any teenager.
Loud and unapologetic.

It’s the giggles in the back,
the whispers of a bigoted room.

All I have is her name.

I honor the story,
correct the sounds.

Later,
When I figure out me. I accept it.

I’m a talker,
no nonsense as adults get.
Proud and amazing.

I protect it now,
stop the mistakes before it continues.

All I have is my name.