Rebel
By Max
You call me a rebel
I’m not a rebel
That’s some bullshit word box
You shove misfits and malcontents in
Its not that simple
You who act like we never had a choice
In what to believe
Who to admire
What values decide us
Or who we love
Your surprised I’m articulate, bright
Why? Was the box to small?
Maybe you should stop shoving
I might shove back
Lets go for the standard
Lets avoid each other
Directly, or we can play that game
Were all the same
“You look like you ride a bike”
do I? What can you see?
Do I look like a deadbeat, a druggy?
A guy who carrys a knife?
Or a guy who pierces ink into his body
Till its shows of his life?
Why do you feel I have to be what you see?
Your not looking real hard
Life is not like tv
Or you move to my ride
And I cringe as you say
“oh my mates got one of those”
he hasn’t, not this way.
They’re not all the same
And neither are we
I am who I am
Not what you choose to see.
I wont stay in your box
I don’t care if I tear it
Its your fucking box
Why don’t you fucking wear it!
9-3-01
Max
May not be reused without written permission of author.