This is to you, in the back of the room....

You with the stupid green streak in your hair,
You, who insult me, mock me and glare.

You, with your creepy, fake, freaky-faced friends,
Know nothing about me, or where I have been.

You, who would drift with the wind as it blows,
Undoubtedly shift with the trends as they go.

I've always been nailed to these velvet floors,
So blow with your trends and judge me no more.