Who decides what I’ll be?

What shapes me?

Maybe I am not a polygon,

Maybe actually defined by curves from weight put on

But I know that must be wrong

because my heart’s all muscle-the most strong

Who decides what I’ll be?

What shapes me?

Maybe my parents set my angles and sides

but this explanation has answers it hides

because some say you’re the daughter of the mountains

and your soul flows down the river’s fountains

Maybe it’s the river’s rocks I will hit

That’ll carve my edges

Who decides what I’ll be?

What shapes me?

Maybe we fear being square

That I might not be an extraordinaire

Four congruent sides, 4 angles- all right

But you worry alright isn’t great

Even if the square looks simple

And it’s sides are all straight

Look at square and turn your head

You will see no need to be frightened

From the right perspective

A square becomes a diamond