Misunderstood

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