Deviant, you call me

Scourge of the earth,

Demon spawn

While others paint me as victim

Victim of society, or

Victim of my upbringing

Or lack thereof

So, you think you know me

Know my secret fears and hates

And point to my insecurity

And who are you

Who wear the judge’s robes

To pronounce me deviant





The gavel falls

And the label sticks

Hard as I try to dispel it

To conquer it

To rise above it

And you, who are you?

Are we not all outcasts in some way?

Deviant in some way?

Victims of something or other?

I do not know you

Or why your dismissal of me hurts

No, I will not admit it

But it does hurt

And keeps me separate,

Alone, forsaken

Walking this gritty road

A deviant

Behind the walls of your choosing

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