Ain’t

How easily do we define,

Another by the the things they ain’t?

Ain’t thin,  ain’t smart,

Ain’t rich, ain’t clever,

Ain’t able to be what we need,

And so we paint them ain’t.

We paint them into shades so dark,

And through our painting mar their spark.

Ain’t quite our colour,

Ain’t quite our class,

Ain’t willing to be what we want,

And so we paint them ain’t.

But in the painting, truth be told,

We quite forget the things they are.

A loving, witty, sentient spark,

A joyful difference, challenging thought,

A shining life with right to be,

The things we ain’t. Don’t want to be.

breugel

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