The things you say don't make any sense

You try to be perfect, you make me so tense.

You say people that wear the same outfits make you cringe,

But what you wear is unbearable, you must admit.

You live solely off the things seen,

You act like when you arrive to school, you step out of a limousine.

Your glass-shattering voice and your Elphaba laugh make my skin crawl,

What did you do last night? Can you recall?

You’re built like Jack Skellington,

You’re so skinny, you make me afraid I might get bitten

Excuse me if I’m mistaken, but you try so hard to fit in.

“People that call marijuana medicinal aren’t very biblical!”

What you say is so ignorant, sometimes I’m afraid it might be transmittable.

You think it’s “cool” to be indifferent,

it seems appearence is the only thing that catches your interest.

You hold your head up high, but in your eyes I can see you want to cry.

You’re no better than me, a regular girl with her head in a whirl.

Your artificial confidence come across as dominance is bottomless,

but has a consequence.

You’re just like everyone else spread across this continent without common sense,

thinking the best way to live is with a picket fence.

But the truth is the best way is without limit and pride,

not your gimmick of a life as a cynic amplified.

Your ego and blown-up head must cause you such pain,

their lies have made you so plain and so vain.

I’m sick of hearing you judge people you don’t even know,

Spewing out hatred like Vincent van Gogh.

Looks and fashion get people places, no doubt,

but your character and disposition are something they’ll have to figure out.

Now I guess you know how it feels to take a blow,

you’re not the only one that can put on a show.

In the future I hope you don’t ask me for admission,

when you’re old and worn, you’ll need more than a beautician.