My Frogman

Haven’t seen the world yet, but I don’t need an airplane to teach me empathy.  Befriended a drug dealer, became friends with my enemies.  

Had my window shot through once, house broken into twice, and still had the faith to try being someone nice. 

Dealt with gangsters, thieves, poverty and sin, but was more afraid of going to school and being seen in my own skin.  

Got starved by a teammate and shunned by a town, but despite all the silence, I still stand my ground.

Put my pen down to fend off the people who send off their children’s independence like it depended on me.  And I left.  

I’m a hard headed, stubby legged, strong blonde loud and proud woman with one song, and I came here to sing–I will be heard.

For the men with the stories of discriminatory glories and the institutions that diluted what it means to be equal–I am coming.

Got a lot of lessons yet to learn.  More reasoning, questioning, bravery, and listening.  Making sure people are the top of my concerns. 

I’m a woman, I’m a fighter, I’m a veggie-eating, filmmaking, on-the-side writer. 

I’ll try, cry, and die before I decide to give up.  

So tell me if you’re ready, because with me or not, fast or slow, this girl’s been there, done that, and is ready to go.

Cheers, boys.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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