shove yourself into column A,
because it's what we say.
or bend yourself to column B,
and call yourself a tragedy.

fit in that box and contort your limbs,
or break out of it, allowed on a whim.
slap on a label so no one must think,
and don't wince twice when they call you a twink.

conform, conform, conform til you snap.
or let it bleed out into paint, poem, rap.
twist, twist, twist with your might,
or make it a novel - call it your fight.

quick, we've got to go praise her art
but put away your brushes - it tears me apart.
call her strong, filled with hope,
while we ignore you as you go mope.

conform, twist, bend yourself in,
but don't follow too closely - boring's a sin!
our standards are double, just like our glee.
and don't double take - no one's as open as me.