I'm going on a diet
One that kills me slowly
The worst way to die
The way of not knowing
That the choices you make are so negative
And the fears of not fitting in ****
That the lace on your shirt in unnecessary
As is, in your hand, that hundred dollar bill
No one cares
About anyone but themselves
They care not for your story
Same as you and yourself
But I'm still going on that diet
Because society's caught my ankle
And I'll die in the heat of the pressure
Listening to the fires of hate crackle