Defining My Paint

Defining My Paint
By Robyn Birchleaf
Some have called me a “progressive”
Others have said I’m a hippie
But none of them have any idea
Of the person I truly am
Some have called me a “Pagan”
Others say I’m just strange
Others claim me to be “of Satan”
And say I’m truly damned
Others have said I’m kind
That I’m thoughtful and caring
But even these terms are merely labels
Just the surface of what defines “I am”
Labels are merely outlines
Within a paint-by-numbers scene
Where the colors match the numbers
The lines are there to define and shape
I’m not a color in that paint-by-numbers scene
No one should be defined in such a way
Boundaries paint such a dull picture
No matter how one can push and scrape
Boundaries, definitions, labels
All amount to nothing more than name-calling
A way to demean an individual or group
While smiling sweetly in their face
That’s not a world I prefer to be a part of
That’s not the way I live my life
I’ll wear their labels but not their definitions
I define who I am, I decide what makes me
…and all of that is non-negotiable

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