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I want to scream,
I am a chameleon The colorful pariah Blending in so perfectly To painted walls behind us Oh, how can I know myself? When I'm never the same No anchor set no place my home Of business and whimsy
The girl walks down the long hall. She keeps her eyes trained on the ground as she feels their stares burning holes through her. They look her up and down, judging her face, judging her clothing.