It’s a ladder that should you slip your gone
Its cruel and unchanging
Its followers show no mercy to those like me
Outcasts Goths Emos Brains
We sit at the bottom tortured by those above us
The Populars
They tease us, make “nice” with us
Then start rumors about us
Because if they didn’t hurt us daily they’d have no purpose
In the end they’ll end up pumping gas
So in the end Populars and their laws of Popularity will
End
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