birds of a feather flock together

Birds of a feather flock together, the grown-ups say, 
but they don't say why. 
Like seeks like, of course, 
we are less likely to be hurt by those who understand.  

Form some identity, the grown-ups sigh their grown-up sighs, 
and I want to scream how? 
I sit at a lunch table and each friend is like me, 
we all know the same jokes, the same old routine, 
we know that our laughter is not mockery but solidarity. 
I get that. They won't, but we do. 

Birds of a feather flock together, 
and they're safer, less predators against them, 
and children learn to huddle in groups that will not turn against them, 
learn to choose friends that know why they cry and why it's quiet. 
Birds of a feather flock together, 
so if you want us to stop, 
first promise us that we will be safe when we are different. 

No? Okay, I'll stay. 

(It's safer this way.)