PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her mother calls her the mistake that will not go away,

Her grandmother calls her the blessing that is here to stay,

Her father calls her his little girl,

But she feels she has no place in this world.



Her boyfriend calls her Baby,

And they call their daughter Halie,

In the box that asks her race she writes maybe,

And wonders what it is going to be like for her baby.



But her and the rest of the world don't click,

Her teachers say she is a misfit,

Her enemies call her it,

And say she just doesn't fit.



But then again she doesn't care,

That people joke about everything from her eyes to her hair,

That she doesn't fit in one ethnic group,

That she doesn't get invited to parties but she doesn't coop.



She just tells them all to leave her alone,

And as for a ethnic group she's better off alone,

And as for parties she doesn't like crowds,

The music is loud and the people are foul.



But this girl called "It",

in this world is lost and alone,

And of all the places she could be,

she doesn't call any home.