I will not fit in your box.
I am too round, too squishy,
with too many sharp edges.
My colors cannot be contained in your darkness.
Their glow is blinding to the robotic eye,
the conformists'a eye.
My bangles will jangle,
my rings will sing, from the most unexpected places!
I am cotton candy to your vanilla,
beef stew to your broth.
Why do you preach diversity yet fear their differences?
Does individuality sound like anarchy brewing?
Keep stifling uniqueness...
you will know the real anarchist!
Hypocrites one and all, with no contribution
to the greater good!
I spit in your lifeless robotic eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem