I will not bow down to your conformity
Moulding me so I’ll express
What you want me to feel
Turning to me next
To say I’m just repressed
But you didn’t read what I expressed
Because it didn’t fit into what you expect
Rolling your eyes in disgust
Pretending to be perplexed
By the way I’m spewing my guts
An undressing if you will
In which you turn away
Until I fit into your cage
While you converse and ask
”How are monsters made?”

©