Who am I
This flesh and bone cage
Proving a hinderance
A canvas for the paint
Of scorn and judgement
A creation of a persecution
Deserved by none
Who I am buried
Beneath brush strokes
Colors that mean nothing
When looked at with a blind eye
My canvas is one of love
An identity and struggle
One that smudges
Strays from between the lines
Of what is accepted
But on my life's canvas
Who I am is who I am
One that I do not even know at times
Each stroke of the brush
Is a different moment
My life in color
Vivid, all mine