Some people strut around in this world like they are exactly where they belong
Some people strain their eyes, looking for Something to remind them of their worth
I am the Latter, I have always been an outlier
I am not my father’s son; I belong to no one
Others sleep through storms with hopeful eyes, fingers interlocked with like minds
I create the storm in my head and drown within the confines of my sinister mind
I belong to no one; I am always the one left behind
I am the bane of my father’s existence and the last thing on my mother’s mind
I once longed to be the thing that catches wandering eyes
To be the last piece that completes a genius’s jigsaw puzzle
But I am who I am; the one who always gets left behind
0xc...B6f
