They can see me,

as I stick out from the crowd;

I don’t fit their standards

of a “normal” being.

I don’t fit in their type.

My appearance is a sore thumb,

and I have interests

some perceive as odd.

Blinded by their fibs,

they slap me with words,

filled with judgment

and their views of “normal.”

They think I am “weird,”

and deserve the guilt and shame.

A very chaotic mess

that shouldn’t be made.

‘Am I doing something wrong?’,

I wonder in my mind.

My “weirdness” to them

is my view of “normal.”

Doesn’t everyone have this,

their own viewpoints

of “normal” and “weirdness?”

Everyone tries to fit in,

but no one is made to be the same.