To Be A Goth Girl

 

She is the stereotype that rules your closed mind,

She is the girl who’s not mentally ‘right’,

Look at the strange one all in black,

And judge her with society’s distortion.

 

She is the one who looks in the mirror

To find no reflection,

But instead a mask of black tears and blood

Inside she withers like a severed rose.

 

Fate excoriates her mechanically,

But won’t let her taste the nectar of death,

She cries; she aches; she bleeds,

For her own mortality.

 

From the day of her birth she was cursed,

Now she is blessed with the dagger of life,

That twists in her heart with pleasure,

And teases her with the pain.

 

To feel so lonely that you don’t want to wake,

To pray to God as your only friend,

To always feel that your life’s a mistake,

To be betrothed to death.

 

Every step that she takes is examined,

Psychoanalysts don’t stop to breathe,

They are the weird ones

They are the freaks!

 

So chant the *Satanic Mantra Goth girl,

Because that’s what they’ll expect,

They say you are normal just different

But they’ve already certified you dead.