Symetrical lives lead towards balance,
but when does that happen, anyway?
All the geometry in the world,
couldn't shape out to be your life.

Blood runs down your arm again,
as the needle digs in, tattoo you.
Hide behind all that is superficial,
hide your unique light to be unique.

Sorrow stays, it's all the same,
black cloth that absorbs all.
You're all the same, I have changed,
I'm different, it's nothing personal.

I change my hair to stand out,
something that I did anyway.
Can you see them all point at me?
Becase of what's out, not what's in.

The constant teasing, looking at me,
can you see what this does to a battered soul?
Hide in myself, I can't be seen,
behind all the leather and make-up.

12/01/2004

Posted on 12/02/2004
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