It's hard to go unnoticed when you're hanging upside down,

The suited girl, the boy trapped in his mother's wedding gown,

The kid obsessed with numbers and the walking sad, sad song,

The ones in ear defenders who could hear you all along.

The girl without an appetite, the boy without a voice,

The trembling hands and rubber bands that snap without a choice,

The boy who don't speak English, in the end, he understand

That they are never welcome, they not born upon this land.

The teenage workaholics scared to death that they might fail,

The ones who gave up trying, falling far below the scale,

Too much or not enough, each one an outcast in the end;

You used to be like us, until you learnt how to pretend.

But how could we fit in when we're all twisted inside out?

Pick kids apart like vultures in a desert, in this drought,

Go home, scream at your mother when she asks you where you've been,

Then bleach out all your colours for a life inside a screen.

And, if it's not enough, all of the acid that you've downed,

Go find those sick pariahs; warp them _all_ the right way round.

Now, surely, you're our saviour; we can all be normal, too!

But normal isn't natural, not unless it's really _you._

I hope you find your colours and compassion and your light,

I hope that you stop hiding and start putting up a fight.

If ever you go looking for a different type of sight,

I hope you know I'll be here and I'll show you, we're alright.