Monster by Ciarra N. Boswell
I am not like other people around me
In s t e a d o f s k i n , I h a v e p u r p l e s c a l e s
In s t e a d o f h a i r a n d n a i l s , I h a v e h o r n s a n d c l a w s
In s t e a d o f a b a r e b a c k , I h a v e w i n g s a n d a t a i l
I a l s o h a v e s t r a n g e g o l d e y e s t h a t g l o w i n t h e da r k
Despite all of my traits, what I find strangest is my nickname
Monster
My classmates, neighbors, even strangers call me monster
I don’t understand why
A monster is a creature so ugly or vicious as to scare people
I may look different, but I wouldn’t hurt a fly
I am the one who should be scared
I am the one being called names
I am the one having rocks throw n at me
I am the one getting death threats
I am the victim, but some still call me that name
Some still scream and run
S o m e s t i l l t h r e a t e n m e a n d m y fa m i l y
Some still try to burn me with the flames of their own hatred
All of this because of how I was born
Because I have scales
Because I have claws
Because I have fangs
Because I am different
Because they judged me without getting to know me
True, I may look unusual
I may have horns, a tail, and strange gold eyes
But am I really the monster
O r i s i t t h e o t h e r w a y a r o u n d?
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