The largest *****
Cannot be changed
Patterns, shapes and colours
Like clothes.

Like clothes
Somehow not all people
Are shaped like talented models
We are ashamed.

We are ashamed
Of our many different colours
Not able to blend in;
Called-out like a sore thumb.

Called-out like a sore thumb
By that somebody; friend or foe
Who always sees the ugliest
Patterns telling these tales.

Patterns telling these tales
Of our lives and our destiny, maybe
Perhaps why we can never transplant;
Change our skin like clothes.