we are
the target of society
the last threads of true sanity
the exact of "delinquecy"
a beautiful minority

for us to blur our definite edges
against the black of the chalkboard
where the forms are drawn by the masses
oblivious to the consequences

to become them would be an infinite disclaimer
and wretched souls of dulled would we then be
trapped in our own little diamond box
sealed with pressure from the raging crowd

they are solemn
and deaf to the cries of the helpless
their ears blocking out all sound other than
the sounds of the television's tolls

and while others scream out into the black nights
their dying screeches bouncing off the walls like a rubber blade
those demons, they sleep soundly in their ruffled beds
plastic molds of plastic lovers dimmed beside them

we won't lose our outlines beneath mounds of concealers
traced with lipstick and make up, more fashions of waste
caking fidelities now forgotten
one foot deep remarks will never alter us

and they can point their richly coated nails at us if they like
and let out laughs like the bastards that they are
we will laugh and cheer
because we're not the ones who should be getting patronized

we are
the target of society
the last threads of true sanity
the exact of "delinquecy"
and a beautiful minority


thank you.

please, dont misinterpret this as a poem about how you should never conform.
yes, it is about conforming, but conforming isn't always bad. if its who you
are then go for it. dig it.
 
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