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They won't understand us my dear
We are far too complex for even our own comprehension
They can't conquer us though we may feel conquered
They can't hinder us though we may feel hindered
They can't torment us, tear us down or toss us aside like yesterdays news
We are a fit of passion like the closest embrace
We are an army of one united by our hearts that rarely beat and occasionally
Beat too hard and fast
We won't stop in the name of all that is ungodly
We are too good for this world
They know it
You know it
I am starting to believe it
We are poets, writers, artists, lovers
The world is our oyster and we are allergic to shellfish
It's not that we are misfits
It's that this day and age is still too baggy on our bodies
And I pray to a God I don't believe in that we will never grow into those rags
Because we aren't pearls
Or one of a billion
We are beautiful creatures
They are waiting for the day we bite the pills and overdose on bullets
But you won't let them have that bitter satisfaction
And I shouldn't either
We are the beings ardent for what we can take in quantities from this life
So we may write about them
And tell everyone our story
And watch them melt
To our stolen golden lies

— The End —