Or so I’ve always felt.
I look around to see
Other people,
Living other lives
Thinking other things.
I don’t understand
Why I feel alone.
Or why,
When I speak,
They hear something so different,
And what I see,
They have such a different view of.
The tiny things
That are music to my ears,
Why do they ignore them?
The things I see
Right to the core,
How can they see
Only their surface?
I understand
What their minds won’t grasp,
Because they go about everything
With their minds
But I,
I use my soul.
I’m deep.
Deep enough to understand
Nearly everything,
Except,
Why they’re not.
Age 15