Tact

I know who I’m supposed to be,

and how I’m supposed to act.

I should try to watch all that I do

and use a little tact.

But that isn’t really who I am.

And I can’t pretend to care

what everybody thinks of me,

Or what they think is fair.

I know where I’m supposed to be,

I just don’t know why.

And I am not afraid to scream.

Or let go and cry.

So you just keep trying to change me

and I’ll continue to refuse.

I’ve made it this far, after all,

despite all of your abuse.