you say I'm emo
just because I wear black a lot.
You say I am a queer
because I give my best friend a hug, and he just happens to be a guy.
You think I cut
just because I have scars on my wrist.
Truth is,
none of the stuff you say is true.
See, emo has become a fad.
Everyone wants to have attention.
But us "real emos" will tell you that its no fun.
I can't...we can't control when we are happy and sad,
glad and mad.
Its a ****** feeling.
I do not wear black because I worship Satan,
I wear black because it fits me
I do not wear my band shirts to be cool,
I wear them because they represent who I am.
I do not listen to rock music because I have problems,
I listen to it because the screaming helps my blood flow.
I don't expect you to know what it's like to truly be
emo
The only time you say that word,
the only time you say us
is when you make fun of us.
My hair is not long just to cover my face,
my hair is long because I like it that way.
You expect us to be like you,
but yet you rob us of our happienes.
Well,
who the **** are you to call me emo?
huh?
What do you truly know about depression.
Because your idea of depression is when you get grounded,
and my idea of depression is when I hold a blade to my neck.
You think depression is just tears,
but nope.
Its painful,
draining,
almost numbing.
This isn't even the start.
Do not call me emo,
because of what you think
because you will never know me
I won't let you get to know me
because I don't want that pain.
You are a ******,
and one of the reasons why
*I'm emo

Always find your purpose
Just live your life
Things sometimes may not go smoothly
You may have to make a sacrifice
One thing that you must remember
You need to have a vision
Stay true on your course
And carry out your mission

If your poor like me,
Your flesh is gonna be burned
And added to the pollution problem,
And our smoke will rise
And be added with said skies,
Should I romanticise
Your body's burning a bit?
OK:
You shall join former skies
Like a mist of your essense,
Your embers will burn forever
Until they fall back from the waves
Of winds that have carried those before
You, and those that have yet
To join you.

And if you have enough money
Your get a proper burial
And get seen by many people you
Really weren't close to any more,
Those who already became cadavers
Long ago in your heart,
They walk with other corpses
That never penetrated your true self.
      And $5000 in a plot of dirt,
Your picture on a slab of marble,
     A song sung awkward by some
Niece or nephew,
Tears for the day,
And your body cannot rejoin the
Earth because the coffin
Isnt bio degradable.

Its just your body,
But the soul is finally free
From the riff raff of the flesh.