By Marcus Pan
These I can not cross.
the red tape in beauracracies,
Without them you'd all be lost.
Forced out by you on my ass,
By a society of the
They say I have no class,
Ain't it so fucking delightful?
Ruling the world with their fists,
Preaching the rules
They have their own black lists,
But I have my own
rules of performance.
Labels is what they tag on me,
They say I'm strange and
When I step up who knows what you'll see,
Can it be I'm
I've been trapped and confined,
In my own
world and place.
Entrapment of the solitary kind,
Block the outcast,
don't show his face.
He doesn't belong, he's a disgrace.
Lock me up
behind a door,
And hope I'm never seen.
If you can't conform, you're
heard no more,
The bad from society you claim to clean.
And to many the
bad is me!
They only see what I wear,
And the fact that I don't
About my feelings they never care,
Who's to say what's the
Different I'm labeled, strange I'm called,
The judgement is passed, they laid down the law,
blemish, hope I'm not seen.
Nothing can change what society believes,
If you're not
a monkey you don't belong.
Don't make a difference how right you can be,
You're branded an outcast and you don't belong.
Follow the piper to your doom,
Dancing and prancing
The righteous who don't have a clue,
The clue you need is in
Diversity can make you strong,
But a warped view of life
The rules say if you don't belong,
You must be brought
down to your knees.
But I never knelt, I will stand tall,
And I will never
You are the ones who will fall,
And in the end I'll still be