Fitting In Poem by Melissa Joy Chesky

My dad:
He thinks I don't try hard enough to
fit in
with others.

What he didn't know was how much
abuse
I ook just for them to accept me,
just to see me as an equal in
their eyes.

My dad:
He thinks that I try not to
fit in
as an excuse.

What he doesn't know is that I don't want to
fit in
with people who drink too much, or smoke too much pot,
or think it's funny to beat up a thirteen-year-old
girl.

Ha. No.

My dad:
He thinks that I do actually
fit in
with these people, but don't realize it yet.

But,
I don't.
I really don't.
And he doesn't know about me drinking.
Or them driving me home when they were in the clouds
by the stars.
Or them beating me up,

when I was thirteen.

Note to dad:
I tries to fit in, I really did.
So don't be disappointed when
they turn out to be hopeless drunks
or potheads living on the streets
when I'm not.

Sorry dad, but fifteen years was just too long to try
and impress the people that I truely hated.