I was born in a place with identical houses

Lining the streets like soldiers in uniform

The lampposts their weapons, the shutters their UCP

I never could stand to wear my helmet.

I grew up on the notion that I broke the mold

I am unique, and different, but not far from a defect

That’s thrown from the assembly line into a bin

Marked “unfit for distribution” clearly in red.

You aren’t alone, there are other misfits

Who sing on that island, a home just for us

The unique, the different, but we aren’t all that special now

Back in those homes that look exactly the same.

Now I stick to my wall, I excuse my way through

All the parties and drinking and social events

Thrown by people like me, the depressed and downtrodden

Whose problems are probably worse than mine.

I am a chameleon, changing and morphing

To the color that’s asked of it, never hesitating

I show what you want to see, smiling indifferently

Does a chameleon ever show its true colors?

We are placed in society among those just like us

Given a name tag and a pat on the back

How can you stand out, be exciting and different

When “Hello, my name is” is exactly the same.

We are our disease, a file in the system

Of patients who come in and go day by day

“You aren’t alone, you have something that’s common”

But how can you know? How can you know?