You walk down the street, eyes follow you, watch you.Classify you without missing a beat,Trying to distort you, sort you, fit you into their mold,To them, your soul is sold and the devil made the deal for it.Your clothes, your hair, this mess is unfair,Not one of them cares where you came from,What you've been through,To them, you're a label overused, refused in society.You're no better than me, you only know what you see.
posted @ 9:27 PM |