360 degrees (Right back where I started)

0 degrees:

When you are born a girl pink is your life.

Your shoes, your dress, your hair bow.

It's a pretty cool color.


90 degrees:

I didn't really care about the gender identification of inanimate objects.

But I put two and two together.



Weak =bad


180 degrees:

In the fifth grade a girl wore a dress to school. It was that unfathomable shade of red.  

I hated it. I hated her.


270 degrees:

It is wrong, I know it is. Was.

It was wrong. 

Wrong of me to hate pink and dresses and high heels. 

Wrong of them to tell me those things needed to be hated. 


360 degrees:

I bought a sweater last week.

It was pink.

This poem is about: 
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741