I Am A Triangle

I am weirdly shaped, I'm a triangle
I can see people slotting into society in the right place 
Squares, circles and rectangles
In their holes, hiding from the wind that is hitting my face 
Smoothly, the wind blows over them with no harm
In their shelter beneath, looking at the freak
Cowardly waiting for the daily storm to calm
In comfort of their bleak shadows, at me they peak
With muffled voices summarise, discriminate and victimise me. 
Do you not get it? You are the freak, by ruling out my shape.
Stop staring, I am trying live in a country that is suppose to be free!
This ignorance, it is all round, I can not escape.
I am a triangle, but I'm still classed as a shape, like everybody else.
So, I am different. Why can't you understand this?
Soon I hope the pointing fingers will be repulsed 
Everyday I'm searching for my little dent in society, it will be bliss