There's the jocks and the preps
There's the nerds
The preps believe they can be temps
The nerds are like a herd.
There's the emos and the goths
There's the wierdos who have no friends
They like fire almost as much as moths
They bore everyone who tries to attends.
So where am I, you may ask?
The music may turn you away
I sit in a corner with a blank mask
I have nothing to say.
I don't have a 'Hello I Am: ' sticker on me
I don't belong to any cults
I hate to have to see all of them pretend not to be
I ignore all of the insults.
So who are you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.