comform

I am me.

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I am me.

 

You are you.

 

But she is her

and he is him.

 

One word:

 

Conformity.

 

The word weighs down on those around it.

Crushing every ounce of their individuality

until it has been replaced by a new word:

 

 

Fear of being different.

Fear of failure.

Fear of being looked down upon.

 

A young girl sits in the back of the room.

Ahead of her are girls who have been molded into one:

curled hair,

bright shirts,

expensive jeans,

and Nikes.

A boy sits at the park

and watches as every other boy his age is asked to play basketball.

He looks at his cheap white sneakers and knows he’s an outcast.

He has not conformed

but he wants to.

 

Three words:

 

Be. An. Individual.

 

Be who you are.

Not the person the world wants you to be.

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