Sketch

Always tried to make myself "olive"
or fair
and tame my "fat" chestnut, red-streaked
hair --
to belong. 
No blue-green of eye
(no "love me or I'll die!")
but "love me or I'll kill you" woodsy brown,
black eyebrows thick
for that "gravitas" frown --
all wrong. 
Lefty, not righty,
broke the mold of family tree
not twice, but thrice -- no middle name in sight --
whatever happened to me? 
I know not the answers --
know even less as I forge my way . . . . . 
I'm just that peculiar "whoever I am,"
hair growing blacker (with silver!) each day.