The whispers
The stares
The wads of papers
All thrown at me
They listen to pop
I listen to metal and rock
They wear pink
I wear black
They highlight their hair blonde
Mine is purple
To me theres nothing wrong
I know people are different
I can’t help the way I am
I am me and thats the way it is
I like being me
I like to think I’m very unique
Preps laugh at my poems
Goths fall in love
Maybe some don’t understand
What its like
To not get everything you want
To have to work for your clothes
But one of these days
They will see
That I, the different one
Will always be me
When they just flee
To want fit in and want to be