The misfits mesh with me,
I like that fire,
Strong as a sting,
From a honey bee.

It doesn’t get quenched,
It can quiet,
But hidden embers,
Are always there,
Waiting to stir the air.

The misfits mesh with me,
The freaks and the geeks,
So much more desirable,
Than the cool ones,
Whose lips leak cheek.

Their hair has flair,
They mean what they say,
Their speak isn’t weak,
No matter what,
Day of the week,
Or what mood,
Churns in their gut.

The misfits mesh with me,
I see their personality,
Making others hide and flee,
But it makes me laugh with glee.

It’s so delightful,
And I don’t care,
Who toward them is spiteful,
That sarcasm,
With me won’t cause a chasm.

The misfits mesh with me,
And for this I am not sorry,
Rather than full of things angry,
Their eyes hold pain,
And are starry.

The difference between,
Them and the popular,
Is really nothing,
Except which demons and such,
Bother them much.