Sorry!
But I can't dance to your favourite tunes.
My music is certainly different.
To you, it may seem insignificant.
Maybe, your clean is still my dirty.
I can't fit into your comfort zone.
I'd rather be happy, alone.
Well, I am able enough to decide
What's wrong and what's 'write'
Who are you to impose?
The 'superiority', and juxtapose
it with display of a smile
While,
I can sense the dead vibe
That lies behind,
in your mind.
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