Lutalica…

They put you in little boxes
When you’re born.
And slap you with labels.
As you grow up.
As years pass by,
You try to ‘fit’ in.
But always looking around wondering
‘Is it just me?’
Baffled when labels don’t make sense to you.
Frustrated when categories no longer fit you.
But my dear,
What if I tell you?
You’re on your way, HOME.
As you drop those unpacked boxes with labels. 
On your way,
Getting ready to introduce yourself.
To the world,
As YOU.