We have groups we go by in high school
You see, you have your preps, who you see at the games
Your jocks, with their jackets, thinking they're so tough
Then you have the skaters with their long hair
And "don't mess with me" attitudes
Your freaks and black wearers, also called gothic
Being miserable as can be
You have your bikers, the rebels of the bunch
You have your geeks and nerds, the brainiacs of us all
The druggies and the drugettes, your groups and your loners
But you think you know me
You label me, predict me, push me aside
Just one look and you already decide
You don't know I'm a blooming rose
A poet, a writer, a sister, a daughter
I'm more than you think
Don't judge me at first sight
You don't know me, what I'm like

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