pariah
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I am a chameleon
The colorful pariah
Blending in so perfectly
To painted walls behind us
Oh, how can I know myself?
When I'm never the same
No anchor set no place my home
Of business and whimsy
The girl walks down the long hall.
She keeps her eyes trained on the ground as she feels their stares burning holes through her.
They look her up and down, judging her face, judging her clothing.
