Target On Your Back

I thought I'd write a poem from an opposite perspective.

A poem.


1. Target On Your Back

It's not your fault you walk around with a target on your back

On those stupid people out there won't give you any slack

You did nothing wrong, but dare to be different

But they think you can do nothing without their formal consent


They try to change you but you know that'll never work

You don't want to be like them, you're proud of your quirks

You think we all look the same, and that is fine with me

But maybe if we look closer, the more differences we'll see


You think we all look the same, and as true as that may be

That is your opinion, and we may not agree

There may be things that we see, the differences so slight

But then again, you don't know us as well as we might

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