A kid simplified and broken down
Reduced to a microphone in their hand,
The notes that leave their lips.
This child is more than this.
“You are my daughter”
Says the mother, breaking a spirit
The child will never feel accepted
This child is not a daughter.
A love for the misunderstood
They relate as well,
Always called a daughter, a singer
This child loves the oppressed.
They’ll make fabric and clothes
While the new world is sewn
The kid wants to help the world
This child wants the world saved
Posted in response to the challenge Who and Why?.
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