What They Don't Know Won't Hurt ThemMature

Here, where i'm from, they report you if your music is to loud, blasting down forsaken walls that hold too much pain to measure, but they won't think twice at the screams billowing out the front door spilling into evening and fading out.

Here, where I'm from, if you are different they ostracize you, here in America the beautiful. If you dont match their alien expectations for a generation too fat, too loud, to heathen for their good ol' morals, then they beat you own and their children laugh you into a hazy oblivion of pills and suicide,

Here, where i'm from, the creativity in you gets you locked up in padded rooms because, here in america the brave we are too afraid to face the ones who think seperate from us, who see more clearly than us because we MUST be right, no if ands or buts about it.

here, where i'm from, you can die and no one notice. you can slowly but surely wither into an empty husk and no one notice your depillitation until you try to cross their path, seek their help, and then they talk about you, driving you further into the darkness eating away at your soul while they go back to their fatty foods and wretched self gratification.

here, where i come, you dont matter. and don't you dare try to outwit them, outshine them; don't you dare try to live outside the boundaries they have set you in. don't you dare tell them you are hurting, dyng from the inside out fading into slight memories to be forgotten, they don't care and never will.

they would rather beat you down than hep build you up, here, where i come from.

The End

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