Misunderstood
Once again I am found
In a world that pretends to go round,
Where we're prescribed
What we are and not allowed to do
Unknowingly, micro dosing cyanide
But I stand here sharing my clear view
A world with no rights
Yet claiming everything’s alright
A paradox to appreciate
Chickenpox to fix the birthrate
I should’ve known from the start
I knew I'd be blown apart
Should've grown alone
Instead I’m left to cry and moan
Wishing away
The fear of today,
Hoping for a pleasing future
Knowing full well that’s no suture...
Well, maybe I’ll be alone
And that’s okay, I condone,
Maybe you’ll follow through
But I’m leaving, and so should you
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