I was born an accident,
no longer a resident,
with no reason to repent,
Nothing more then
a failed abortion,
thrown into a world
of distortion.
Killed before my peers,
bringing out
my deepest fears,
while the crowed
shouts and cheers.
Here’s to the one,
they all chose
to pick on,
the one who
was only,
disposition
causing friction
within their beliefs,
receiving less relief,
in what they prefer,
but you’d rather refer,
to the misunderstood,
hiding under their hood,
avoiding conflicts,
resolving issues,
nothing more
then a box
of tissues,
only to
be misused.