This Person That I Am Poem by Edwina Reizer

Oh, this person that I am
is such a complicated one.
Why was it my fate to become
a daughter and not a son
that my father had wished for?
Did I deal with that correctly?
I really don't know.
But the gender I was born
with that tiny pink bow
has left a little scar that I feel.
Sometimes I'd feel like the fifth wheel.

Twelve years later along came my sister
and there was never a brother born.
But acceptance by any who fathers a child
is sometimes twisted and torn
by a society that praises the male more.
And so this complication that I lived with
is in the background now, not the fore.
I think in the end my father did realize
that he got what he needed in life.
Because before he died he looked in my eyes
and said, ' I Love you..'