What I'm Made of

"Sugar and spice

And everything nice

That's what little girls are made of."

But I’m pretty sure the cook made me wrong,

because I know I could never belong

to a group of people so deceivingly pure.

Someone come help me--give me a cure,

because there must have been a mistake!

Whenever I try to fit in, I feel like a fake!

 

I don’t like makeup and my favorite color isn’t pink,

When I’m around other girls, sometimes it’s hard to think!

To them, everything is all gossip and glitter.

And here, I figure, “Why would I litter

my wonderful mind with something like that?”

Their hurtful whispers swarm like a buzzing gnat!

 

Today, I am a girl who can stand her own ground,

who doesn’t need anyone’s approval and who isn’t bound

to the superficial matters that coat our Earth.

I know exactly my place and my worth.

But I didn’t used to be, self is a noun one must learn.

And thinking back makes my stomach clench and churn.

 

I remember coming home crying because girls hated my clothes.

It was from this one incident that the new me arose.

Sugar told me my outfit was strange.

And Spice grimaced at me and told me to change.

Little does she know how much I did.

I sat myself down and decided to rid

my life of people like that nice little girl.

Then my life blew by in a colorful whirl,

as I no longer stopped every moment to wonder

under whose scrutinizing gaze I’d be under.

 

And while I’m not exactly sure who I am,

I won’t ever give you the pitiful sham

That I’m Sugar and spice

And everything nice

because that’s not what I’m made of.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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