Helpless Children Led Astray

Eyeliner eyes, painted mouthes,
dyed and chopped,
diced
hair.
Breaking out of the shell of normality,
taking a stand and standing out.

But who the hell are they fooling?
The air still hangs heavy over suburbia,
the houses never breaking out of their
neat, never-ending rows.
Nobody has ever stepped off those manicured lawns
and become a prodigy,
a cultured tragedy.

The neighbors sprinklers still go on at 6 am,
and the yells of sheltered children echo
between the trunks of sapling trees.
Screw you, society doesn't need
another kid with instabilities.
You think you're special, kid?
That's nothing.

Scars don't prove you're different,
and piercings don't make you cool.
You're just another exhibit left on display
in that timeless public zoo.
Welcome to Suburbia.
Would you like to buy some fertilizer?
The grass gets greener,
but there is no other side.