We are outcasts
Children born into dark
We listen to music that relates to us
We try to stand up and make our mark
Everyone thinks we cut
Or that we are depressed
They joke around and say mean things
Think we worship Satan and try to bless
But that's not who we are
That's not all we do
We cry, and laugh
We can love too
Yes, we may cut
And we may want to cry
But all you think we do is
Wish that we could die
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
We are outcasts
Children born into dark
We listen to music that relates to us
We try to stand up and make our mark
Everyone thinks we cut
Or that we are depressed
They joke around and say mean things
Think we worship Satan and try to bless
But that's not who we are
That's not all we do
We cry, and laugh
We can love too
Yes, we may cut
And we may want to cry
But all you think we do is
Wish that we could die
Request permission to use this poem