I must be sick,

Because I do not care,

About the petty thing,

That make them rip out their hair.

Maybe its true,

Maybe I’m insane,

Since I am indifferent,

To the things that bring you pain.

You tell me all your problems,

But I never share,

You say it’s not right,

But life is never fair

I’ve tried to sympathize,

I’ve really tried my best,

But its hard to do it with this lifeless organ,

Deep inside my chest.

They say my mind is warped,

They make me take a pill,

I’m sure that they have worry,

That I may try to kill.

There not very deep,

They say it must be stress,

Just because they see,

The way I like to dress.

My mind must be twisted,

They’ve got it in their head,

That since they judged me so,

My anger has been fed….

There are always dramatic scenes,

Up on all of the screens,

They say I am obscene,

And that my mind is unclean.

They say that no medication,

Can halt my degradation,

Only a drama cessation,

Can bring my mind to salvation.

The apparent social rush,

Gives me an extreme Mind Crush,

Turning my brain into slush,

Giving my thoughts an eternal hush.

The accusations of being Insane,

No longer cause me to strain,

I must allow my views to retain,

Since they take to much will to sustain.

If I have the freedom of expression,

Why am I faced with such aggression,

I will never have discretion,

Despite all of this oppression.

I will never be a social slave,

Not even when I am lying in my grave,

Only few people take the chance to waive,

The newest social rave.

The pressure will never stick,

Its all just a frivolous trick,

They must be quick,

Because Ill just continue to be Sick.