1s and 2s
By Brady Gill
There is a world of 1’s and 2’s
Simple
Easy
Tried and true
Each number knows what they should do
Just be a 1
Or be a 2
If you’re a 1 you act one way
And 2’s are different but the same
For 1’s and 2’s know what to do
Just be a 1
Or be a 2
1’s are 1’s
And 2’s are 2’s
There’s nothing else to think or do
Just be that way and you’ll get through
Be the same
Don’t be new
Just be a 1
Or be a 2
One day one 1 woke up with dread
And strange thoughts swirling in their head
“If I’m a 1 and 1 is me . . .
Then why do I feel like a 3?
Why do I feel two curved bows
That feel so true
But no one knows?
If I believe will these curves grow?
Is how I feel how I can show?
In this world of 1’s and 2’s
Is there room for something new?
Is there room for number 3
Is there room for one like me?
“No!”
Said 1’s mother walking by
Who had a tendency to spy
“Don’t you dare,”
The mother cried
“Don’t you dare try to defy
The way things are
The way we do
The way we’re 1’s
The way we’re 2’s
Don’t be strange
Don’t be changed
Don’t be different
Don’t be new
I’m scared and don’t know what I’d do
With one who wasn’t 1 or 2”
1 walked to school
But quite confused
It’s mother’s love
Stung like abuse
If I’m not a 1
If I’m not a 2
How much am I going to lose?
What will I put others through
If I do what I feel is true?
Is it worth the hurt?
I have no clue
I have no clue
What I should do
When 1 arrived at school that day
It all was different but the same
Everything as it had been
But now no where 1 fit could in
Slowly something had begun
That kept 1 from the other 1’s
Never had their games seemed fun
But now they made 1 want to run
Run from the 1s
Run from the 2s
Run from what one’s supposed to do
Run from what one’s supposed to be
And numbers who can’t seem to see
That there could even be a 3
Who will not grow and choose to lack
“No!” Cried the 1, “I won’t hold back
My frozen form is the attack
Of home
Of school
Of binding rules
And all that’s wrong will be my fuel
I won’t be fooled
No 1’s
No 2’s
It’s time to change and be brand new!”
From power that seemed very old
One straight line began to fold
And roll and stretch in it’s new skin
With sides curving out
And ends bowing in
It’s hard to begin
But once you do
One’s true self
Always shines through
Your inner number that you know
Will shape the way you bravely grow
It might go fast
It might go slow
It might go both
There’s no right flow
There’s only now
There’s only you
There’s only choice
And what you’ll do.
1 opened their eyes and called with glee
“I’m finally me. I’m number 3!”
The 1s and 2s looked on with fear
But one small number tiptoed near
“You’re a 3? That’s really great. . .
Can you help me? I think I’m an 8.”