I wish there was a way they'd see
The truest me inside of me
But their perceptions keep me chained
Unto a stereotype they imagined
Now I wish I had refrained
From saying anything, I have pained
For thought that that is how they think
Of me, at that my dead heart sinks
I used to sit and write, alight
But now to do it is a fight
Knowing how low is their esteem
For the things I feel and dream
I wish there was a way to free
The passion that's inside of me
Imbued with deep explosive power
Blossoming like exquisite flower
But they don't care what my heart is for
It swells and beats to love, adore
But their care has long run dry
And so I verse on sunless sky
Anguished for their spiteful gripe
My memory of them I try to wipe