It is cold and lonely where she stays
In a room full of majorities
but she feels estranged
They try to spark conversation
but her voice box is mute
They want to expand her horizon
but her social angle is acute
They want to make her visible
but in the shadows she hides
Afraid of social reformat
and being victim of social homicide
An anti-social pessimist is like fresh prey
For optimistic carnivores to have their way
They will shatter her teeth and grind her bones
To shape her as a clone of one of their own
Because being a minority isn't socially right
So she is left with two options:
Die to fit the norm
or live labeled a prejudice stereotype

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