I once read a play
with characters real queer.
One of them couldn't stand labels,
she wishes they would all disappear.
She hates seeing labels so much that
she always peeled them off;
while I was learning this in Lit class
I couldn't help but laugh.
But then I stopped
when I realised something amiss,
because ever since I was a tot,
ridding labels gave me such bliss.
Labels don't bother me as much now,
and I wonder why this is so;
is it because I'm tired of unlabelling things,
and learnt to just accept status quo?