To Feel Accepted

(NB. For those new Year 7s, whatever they’re doing. And for the Year 7 Me, who would know).

Square peg, round hole.
What if everybody were a round hole?
And I was a dodecahedron peg.
It’s grinding when you can’t draw a line in the sand.
Hold hands with your man,
Tell him your glad,
When you’re a dodecahedron peg.

And by and by the smiles I paint run dry,
But one day there’s not going to be any paint left.
It grills me like a pork chop,
I’ve not got a lot,
And it burns my skin when the people I meet are botched
With accepted souls
As normal as round holes.

I’ve got strong legs,
I stand on my own,
I can cut the waves, handling the force is easy,
Its the balance that chokes me.
I’m sure there’s an equation out there to feeling accepted.
Where humans look past the big nose and the strange dress
And kiss your weirdness,

That’s the meaning of feeling accepted,
Some kids,
They make daisy chains alone.
Take them home,
Only mother will appreciate them.
The grass is tall, the magpies are in twos,
The conifers are singing and the winter bites,

The tidal waves do get stronger
And the beginning of every academic year
Means they’ll be another new dodecahedron peg.
They’ll try to fit rounded mentalities.
But somehow it just doesn’t work.
I’m not sure why,
Or how dislike materialises.

But I know its the big nose, the many sides
To the shape of personality I have.
To feel accepted takes intuition like no other,
The kind of sixth sense a mother
Would know.

To and fro
From the groups,
From the days spent in a library cloaked in self-sorrow,
Its hard to feel good when you don’t buy dresses from Topshop.
When you don’t look like a shop assistant from Hollister.
Its hard to grow old being a dodecahedron.
Or a polygon, or a triangle,

Where the world changes its fashion
In some desperate attempt to look cool
To feel accepted is to dash away your originality
And being “true to yourself” is the kind of advice given by celebrities
Who’ve sold their souls to make it,
And it isn’t the kind of advice that anyone can take,
On a spherical planet that tells you how you should be made.

To feel accepted is to wear Hunters,
To pay money for names.
To feel accepted is to dye your hair
Get a bunch of tattoos, piercings,
To look different but be the same,
To go to Leeds festival, or Creamfields, or one abroad, any of them
To marry yourself to drugs or to alcohol,
To go to Malia, Ibiza, go to Sankeys,
To fit the round hole.

Every school will tell you that.
Everyone will tell you that.
The world will tell you that.


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