The Shooting Star

Never Resembles the Others

There are horrors which lie beneath

Each rustle and primrose perfect

Every smile covers sinful evil

Come here, she enters

Too late to have a foothold

Come here, barely beginning

Into a world already against her

As she grew, she danced

Flowers, birds, and butterflies

Sang and uplifted her

Come now, stop your crying

For those freedom days are gone

Come now, no longer a child

Time to become like the others

The halls of middle school are

The longest in the world

And by far the cruellest

Come on, being homeschooled

Until now hasn’t done any good

Come on, choose a student

And just try and be like them

Maybe the hurtful words that

Choke like vines will stop

Maybe the elbows that purposefully jab into her ribs between classes

Will finally cease

No! Individuality must not die

Hid away just to be accepted

She is a brilliant, shooting star

Come, be yourself, and never

Feel like you have to ‘fit in’, for:

“Life isn’t about finding yourself.

Life is about creating yourself.”

-George Bernard Shaw

This poem was created from a prompt by Jonny Masters. It asked us to write a poem based on a quote of our choosing.

Both the quote and poem hold significant meaning to me. I hope it will to you, also.

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