The school hall

where everybody is in their own corners:

the sporty girls

tough guys

rockers

brains

trouble youth A

and trouble youth B

even the believers strolling with their folks;

the bohemian rebels facing closed doors

not to forget about the sobers and smokers

the ones kicked out by their parents

the immigrants

and the group leaders a.ka. teachers

and finally come us belonging to no group at all

neither smart nor stupid

or acting as anyone's Cupid

but we agree with many of them

but still with any of them

because we are compromises

neither cheerleaders leading nor prom queens

because they won't bend towards us

their eyes won't turn blue

they don't know what to think about us

so they won't step into the same bus 

and then they'll start spreading rumours and lies

as if they were Misters and Misses Know-It-All

though they really don't know

we can't tolerate their badmouthing

They are beating and kicking some us

and eating us online for supper

they're trying to bring us down in any possible way

until we're crying mad

and running away to no man's land

wanting to self-destruct

until we realize we have Creator's acceptance

the one who bestowed our essence and self-esteem

by learning to embrace ourselves, the quirkiness

love is found in agreement with your enemy the bully

and holding strong and unique in our no man's land