"The Individual"                                By Deana The whispers I hear, The glances I see. Just because I don't fit into Your so-called standards, You brand me different. Outcast is what I am called. I don't fall into your description of perfection or exception. But here's the catch, I could care less. I wasn't put on this earth to please any of you. I'm here to live my life, The way I see fit. I'm doing what I like, I say what I feel, I wear what I want Listen to what makes me happy. So to break it down for you all You superficial, materialistic, stuck-up, Set in your ways, closed-minded, primadonna, worthless sheep, Who follow others, I get the last laugh. For I am the individual Who determines whether your life is worthless or not. Cause I win in the end.                             Part I Author's note:  This poem was written by a very good friend of mine.  You can e-mail me to let me know what you think of it and I'll pass it along to her.