Gingers Have No Souls

When I came to town

I was told

That ginger girls

Have no souls


How can this be?
Please tell me

How my heart of fire

Is not a soul


It burns so bright

Inside my chest

My soul, it stirs

It cannot rest


Until I unravel

My accusers’ plan

Do they wish to send me

To some Irish land?

What’s wrong with red hair?

My background is French!

You treat me as if

I’m an ungodly wench




Locks of red

Pale skin like the moon

A lover, a dreamer

With a passion for screamo


Someone please tell me

Who took my soul?

Did they cut it out with a box cutter

Before the plane struck the tower?

Did they sell it to the witch

In exchange for a flower?


I will not write this off

As the product of rumor

Born from mindless chatter

Of internet trolls


I used to think it was cute

When it came from the Hatter

Until he tore out my heart

And fed it to the rabbit


I’m a result of genetics

The luck of the draw

You continue to belittle me

This is the last straw!


I’m a rare bird

An original mutation

A one of a kind

With a talent for words




The End

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