They say that bullying is just something to build character
Well I don't understand how character is built upon when
Solid iron falls into shredded pieces of loose-sleeve paper
A soldier marching on shot down because she didn't wear a uniform
A receptionist unable to handle the uprising of rowdy customers in the waiting room
All we're all waiting for is for this awkward limbo between childhood and the real world
To melt away so we can shriek freedom like we're taught in textbooks
But we're imprisoned by the glaring eyes of judgmental looks
Whether it be his love, her brains, his voice, her melanin
The conditions of schooling nowadays fosters this kind of hate
With teachers making like five-year-olds who don't want to hear it
Practically throwing temper tantrums in their lounge
As they lounge around blocking out the sound of murder
As they crucify bodies, extrapolate pride like prostate surgery
Or a double masectomy
As they violently tell me that this normality is what is expected of me
Common Core just enforces that we're all the same
When in fact the wires in my brain are quite different than she next to me
I'd like to be treated like an individual rather than a number
Because I am just a hunk of metal to them: a part to pass on in the factory
Get her done, pass her on to a college we can beam about
So that when parents check out this town they'll dream about
Sending their kids off to this Great American Wasteland
That prepetuates the development of a blueprint as opposed to a blank canvas
So when the serial killers come in their packs and attack
I'm left a helpless deer in headlights
Fallen to my knees buried in grits as they burn; hands clenched in fists together
Head snapped up, tears bleeding from my eyes
When does this stop?
Where does this stop?
Praying to God that it will be here, now
When can we reach the mountaintop on a sunlit hill
Where differences can bridge not diverge
And we can feel the surge of unity
I know it's idealist to wish like this
So I guess I'll just say that the voices muted and lost in translation
Need to muster their way out of the woods they've been excommunicated to
So that we can sing like morning doves