Research says the gene pool predetermined what I should be.
What type of nose I'll have,
How tall I am going to grow to,
And to what genitalia I am to be assigned with.
Everything about me was the work of your duet
But that never meant
That I have to sing the same melody.
The programming ends when I safely got out from the womb.
Everyday after it was a new code.
And I get to choose what I can encrypt.
From when should I wail to when I should coo and focus on something.
It was all up to myself.
No matter how many times you tell me that you made me.
People say, I am just like you
Be it in image or in spite,
And I just smile demurely
Biting my gumcheeks from screaming,
"I am NOT like *****!"
Though, true I am an apple --
a fruit born from the tree on a cliff.
Rolled down, bruised, and deformed.
Finally nestled under the shade
Of a lowland pear tree.