I know I’m not that pretty,
and I know I’m not that loud
But I still have some feelings
and I do make a sound

Just because I don’t drink
doesn’t mean that I am lame,
it’s just,
I worry about myself,
and my mother the same.

Just because I don’t dress up,
doesn’t mean I don’t want to be pretty
it’s just,
to be pretty,
I would not be myself,
though that would not be a pity

Just because I don’t cry
doesn’t mean that I don’t want to
it’s just,
I don’t think anyone will care,
even if I do

And just because I don't speak up,
doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say
it’s just,
no one asked me,
so I don’t know if talking is okay.

fight fire with fire.

fight evil with evil

but doing it like that,

in the end,

won’t you just be fighting yourself?

People fear what they don't understand

and death is an incomprehensible mystery.

You can’t look past someone's flaws
and ignore who they are.
If you do, you look past them,
and then you’re not looking at all.

You are immortal until proven otherwise.

This is a poem, to all those like me
to all those who don’t suffer,
and who is just here to be

I have no big dream
and I don’t want much from life
maybe a good job,
and to die without strife

I will simply just exist,
and be happy and be sad
someone who won’t be remembered
because I’m neither good
nor am I bad

I am not unique,
I am not strong and I’m not weak

I am just here,
for a fleeting second of time
it doesn’t really matter
that I even wrote this rhyme

My purpose here will not vary
I’ve got none,
and that’s because I’m completely ordinary.