Assigned When Born
Everyone hates the partisan, so
Too bad your existence is political--
Dealt with hate that’s just critical
Of your flaws, identity, and happy glow--
It’s just far too shimmering and bright;
It shows the dissonance between sight
And a soulful truth--interpretted as a blight.
Useless labels, boy or girl, left or right.
Oh god! Why must I contain multitudes,
Why must I look like this and feel like that--
Seems all my happiness and truth includes
The same treatment afforded to a rat
Given by those who, too, know the world’s scorn.
Is who you are found or assigned when born?










