The Misfits Poem by bill nye the science guy

The Misfits



There's a race of men
who don't fit in.
Their souls
can never rest.
And they try their best
to live
a moral life.
If they had a wife,
a job, and worked
it well...
But they can't sit still
stomachs don't
sit well
with walking the narrow path.
They aren't afraid
of God's wrath
because life,
to them,
is hell.
Their misery
can only be
the result of their evil souls.
And now they sit
in an empty pit
jail, or drugs, or booze.
And they've got
nothing left
to lose.

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