Faces of those around me,

Each has a different story,

A beginning, middle, and end,

And a perfectly integrated plot.

Yet, I am declared Faceless.

 

They don't see a story,

They don't see a face,

They choose to use a label.

 

They call me Epileptic,

They call me Freak,

They call me “Clinically Depressed”,

Because they choose to ignore my story.

 

They don't see a purpose,

In their lives or in mine,

They don't see a plot,

A beginning, middle, and end,

They choose to use a label instead.

 

Too bad, so sad,

They don't bother me.

I don't see their labels,

I still just see our stories.

 

I see our beauty, kindness, intelligence,

Our love, strength, joy,

Our peace, courage, loyalty,

Our creativity, determination, openness,

Our uniqueness, influence, integrity,

Our motivation, persistence, resilience,

Our righteousness, tenderness, sympathy,

 

I see the freedoms and possibilities within our storylines:

I see what I can overcome,

I see my opportunities,

I see limitations that I can surpass,

 

And I am thankful.

 

So if you label me, call me this:

Call me Happy,

Call me Grateful,

Call me Caring,

And, most importantly,

Call me Free.