Out of the V

Flapping their wings gracefully with unison harmony, The other geese fly in a perfect V. But not me, No not me. For you see I cannot fly. I cannot jump and I cannot sing like the other geese. I cant even waddle right. I have a broken ,brown beak, My feathers are a jumble of dreadful, awful, matted down. My feet are five sizes too big, And when I open my mouth, all that comes out is a pitiful quack. Mother goose says that one day ill fit in with the gaggle, That one day, I’ll make a wonderful goose, That one day, I wont be so different. But I know she’s wrong. Ill never be one of “them”. Ill never look like them, Their smooth white feathers and sleek orange fixtures will Never Be mine. So while they get to migrate and travel and have fun. I’m stuck here. Alone. Stuck here wanting to be more, Wanting to know more, And just wanting to be accepted, for me. I am not a goose, No, not me I am a victim of prejudice.