I sit in the back of the class and no credit is given,
for I try and try to prepose ideas,
but I am utterly ignored and remain in grievance.

I begin the start and end the finish and help out in between,
but I continue to remain an invisible teen.
Most are ignored, some are diminished but none remain a ghost but I,
haunting the area in which I am set I remain a spirit till I die.

I try the mischief others may live in,
but the setting remains the same,
for i am bound by the shackles that mangle my being and all and all remains.

I look out at the beautiful faces that remain unaware of my existence,
and i realize their beauty is marred by their naivety to my wonderful mischief.
Utterly self-absorbed jerks they remain in this world of ours,
while my being unknown to those full grown keeps me grounded an unalarmed

For i see the world as it is not what it was or will be,
I am the song,
I am the right,
I am the bound who are free.