Why must pink and blue define who we are?
Pink should like dolls, not some little green car.
Blue cannot cry as that’s not what boys do,
Pink shall not fight as that’s only for blue.
I was told to play house, to sit up braiding my hair,
To put on nice dresses as that’s what I should wear.
Pink should always stay pink as that’s how I was made,
To stay short, pretty and thin, to watch what I weighed.
You will grow up to be delicate, ladylike and true,
that’s what I was told before I discovered I was blue.
That’s why I cut it off, and chose to bind my chest,
I know others will have their say but I really couldn’t care less.
New name, identity, pronouns and life,
I can’t wait until I’m older, to go under the knife.
For the first time ever, I finally felt I was me,
no longer hidden or trapped, just open and free.
Never in my life, have I felt more proud,
To be able to voice who I am, and not hide behind the crowd.
So I’ll stand up tall and say this out loud,
Hey everyone, I’m transgender and proud!
