You look at them and see black hair,
Whatever you say they couldn't care.
They may wear eyeliner and black clothes,
They'll wear whatever they want I suppose.
You have no right to give them crap,
Just cause they don't like gangsta rap.
For some reason you think they all cut,
But that ain't true; anyway it takes guts.
Look at them and think something bad,
Probably that they're always unhappy and sad.
Haven't you heard of not judging a book by it's cover,
I don't cause one emo I know is like my brother.
I couldn't care cause what matters is on the inside,
You pay them out cause it's yourself your trying to hide.
I'm not an emo, goth or punk yet they're my best friends,
And I think that they will be until the very end.
Heed my words and don't give them shit,
But who cares cause it just gives them a reason to go skit..
This is an anti-anti emo, punk or goth poem to you,
And you probably should listen cause the words are true.
Anyway I don't know exactly where this is going,
So I'll end it with my middle finger showing...
