Melting Pot

Peeping at the world from behind her mothers hand,

she gasped in awe at what was before her, curious for more.

However, as she grew, her skill of precision

and the need for perfection within followed along;

making her crumble to ruins at the thought of failure before she even attempted,

causing her to be an extrovert awkwardly trapped inside an introverts used shell.

 

Press fast forward, skip a couple years and hit play on his smile.

His smile, his touch, his personality- something she could only squint at, it was so bright.

That’s when it first happened.

When she dared to steal a piece of his personality; took it in her hands,

nurtured it into her own little creation

and tucked it into herself.

A bit of him in her; the first ingredient to her melting pot.

 

From there it became an addiction.

Her extrovert tasted the mixture, cracking the shell,

and with every hand she accepted into her own,

she’d smile at them as she slyly swiped bits their personalities

and stuck them inside her pocket for some time later

when she could baby the ingredients and carefully

add them to her bubbling concoction.

Plop! A new addition to the melting pot.

 

She soon had collected samples from all around the world-

Japan, Croatia, Canada, Finland, Brazil, Italy- you name it, she had it.

You’d think she was a kid during Christmas,

the way her lot of samples swirled and curled with

extravagant colors each time she added them to the collection.And,

as she peered at the mixture in the melting pot,

she only saw one thing within the shimmering liquid:

Her smiling self.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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