Sometimes cross the road to avoid my passing,
What do they see that offends them?
The long hair,
The leather and denim,
Perhaps it’s the patches of bands they believe to worship Satan,
Do they think I worship Satan?
I walk proud in my colours,
In my skin that’s adorned in ink,
For I am an individual,
I walk my own path in my own style,
I’m no corporate sheep that bows to societies expectations,
I am who my desires crave me to be,
For I shall forever be me.