I should have guessed,
The dress up parties...
Doctor doctor...
I'm not as manly as the rest...

I was born to be different,
To stand out amongst the grey
But it wasn't easy to accept,
It isn't easy to be this way

My parents still love me
My friends are still there
The hockey jocks think I'll jump them in the locker rooms...
The populars think I really care...

Every girl wants me to be their BGF and to go shopping everyday.
But honestly I'm still the nerd I was, and that's how I'm gonna stay.
But even then I'll be the pretty boy, the one  that they call gay.

There's a place in my heart where an apple tree grows.
On warm Sunday afternoons my soul rests beneath it's unwavering shade,
And there amongst the long sweet grass my fears and sorrows all just seem to fade.
How it got there, what it's for, no one really knows.
Strangely still, the ground around it strangely, somehow glows.
But it's bulky bossom and entangled arms keep my worries abade.
And when I reach to pick an apple from it's gentle depths I simply make a trade.
One bite into the golden globe and one bad memory just goes...

It's stands solemn and contright beside the sands of time,
And from there the surreal sea of dreams just stretches on and on,
Merging with the sky as it disappears beyond.

On the branches of my hope there hangs a tickering chime.
And when it sings it's time to go, it's time to say anon.
There's a place in my heart where and apple tree grows of which I'm pretty fond.

Let darkness envelope me
In a cloak of mystery.
Let the thunder roar
and the lightning clash -
Let the clouds steal me away,
And the rain erase my tracks.

Let the wind whisk me up
Into the arms of the sky.
Let the howling of the storm quiet down to a sigh.
Let the heavens burst open
And sunlight rejoice...
Let the darkness become light -
Let the world hear my voice!

Let the whispers in the forest break out into song.
Let the world be set right,
Let nothing be wrong.

Let darkness release me form the claws of its grasp.
Let me be free, let me take off my mask.
Let thunder die out, let the lightning disappear.
Let clouds whither away, and the rain no longer shed a tear...

In my mirror I see a clown,
Juggling his fate upon the hope of entertaining his captivated audience.
Performing circus tricks with a painted smile across his animated visage.

In my mirror I see a soldier,
    Dauntless and Dedicated
To dutifully serving his school.
The soldier never tires,
Never slacks,
Never rests,
Never stops - until his duties are done.

In my mirror I see an explorer,
seeking adventure and freedom from the concrete jungle, whose cement vines bind round the sinews of his heart until he trapped
Trying to break away from:
Oppression, and the Syntheticity of suburbia.

In my mirror I see a ghost.
Dead to the world, yet still cursed to wander its lonely alleys,
In search of liberation from social purgatory.

In my mirror I see a learner,
Clean-shaven and well brushed.
His face well scrubbed though the tell-tale pimple betrays him to adolescence.
The student has no substance...
What you see is what you get,
And what you get is well -
Whatever you want.

In my mirror, late at night,
When all have drifted off to sleep,
I see a boy, who finally takes off his many masks,
And reveals his true identity to the trustworthy mirror (whom he has known long enough to keep his secrets)
He is no longer:
The clown,
Or soldier,
Or explorer,
Or ghost or learner,
He is me.