Misfit stick-out on that

post-graded report.

How do you judge a soul

with a lead weight,

and still expect that beast to conform?

to FIT when all's amiss.

Misfit stick-out as those

raged eyes look on,

hungry for its sweet meat

prodding for a post-graded report

with no soul...

Misfit stick-out

when those green-hands

grab at your throat

and claw for your breath,

your voice. And steal it

for its own mouth.

 

Misfit stick-out when

the world watches

and waits for another

template. Grey, unassuming,

unmoving like a tin-man.

Misfit stand-out in the

golden hour. Stand-out 

and take the unmarked road.

Show those eyes

what your soul is worth.

And fight

till those green hands

bleed

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