When The Pieces Don’t Fit

When The Pieces Don’t Fit

I am who I am

I wasn’t born for your opinion’s that isn’t needed

My beauty lines and ancestor lines

My sarcastic smiles and flexible body parts

My world of Queendom power 

All defeated

You say I couldn’t fit in sista

But guess what? 

I was born to stand out like the cinnamon in my morning oatmeal 

The unique clothing and hair I wear

I salute hatefulness and deceitfulness with my cat eye

I was born to make changes


To be the game changer in my generation 

To make changes of the world that’s divided in a nation of hate

Call me a misfit

Because I hold the piece of the puzzle that will never fit your dreams

Your opinions of what you think about me

Judging me just like the world has already done

Yep I’m done being looked at like some psychotic rat experiment

Trying to figure out what I am

Who I am

What I’m made of

My DNA clearly states that I am made up of the dark melanin of my skin

The boss ways of my independent articulate ways

The sarcastic personality of my guards that stay high up like I am on my throne

I’m made up of God’s power and fierce demeanor to be different and not follow the world of cruelty and mishaps

I am that missing piece of the puzzle that isn’t meant to fit

Guess what?

I was always born to stand out!

~Lyrical Passion


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A 9x published author, mental health blogger for Live Healthy Mentally, creative mogul, and writer. Follow the blog at www.livehealthymentally.com and follow on IG @livehealthymentally and @livinghealthymentally
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