When I was in Word Heaven, the alphabet asked me to guess,
what was it that I wished to become and I said, the letter S.
So down I came and was wrote out by a slim and Godlike hand
and I lay there quivering and still in a paperless dry land.
But soon I knew something was wrong for my friends, both G and V,
said I was out, I’m one along, I was born the letter T!
So I was entered as an even when my heart knew I was an odd
and where I wanted a simple curve I had a little rod!
This wasn’t right, it cannot be, I’m ugly, straight and crude,
I want to be a flowing shape, as sculptured as a nude.
I found a mirror of my choice and painted up my typeface
but I never could erase my shape and a T must not wear lace.
An S, a T, a cross, a dot, so confused, I cried a lot.
I twisted myself into that S, over the years, never to rest.
I was read by those who saw me wrong and I bellowed “Leave me be.
I should have been the letter S” I said “Not the letter T”
I noticed how the S was curved and buckled myself in blame,
then one day, on an old inkjet, I found someone the same.
M was a friend and worse than me for I was one letter away,
M set his sights to be an F “No way” I had to say.
But Z spoke up, a wise old letter, and B and D joined too.
They said, the form or shape don’t matter, you have a voice, you’re you.
It doesn’t matter how you look, don’t bend yourself into a book,
just be yourself, stay clear of blame, and credit yourself because you came.
All rights reserved.
Molly Cutpurse 2008