I think I finally understand what words are meant to be
I wish I could tell you that I know how to use them
But I don't want to waste them
I don't care what people think about me
I don't think people even care about me
Yet, I'm still afraid they'll dislike my poetry
I'm still afraid they'll like me for someone I claim to be
When I speak, I get weird glares
And furrowing brows like they don't care
Silences, when I dare a joke
Slight grins and then they start to smoke
I smile and try hard to fit
Try to care less about what they would think
My old life passed away
A few traits taken away
They stay in the back of my mind
Talking rubbish when I try to be kind
Late at night I finally allow them to come back
Of my own personality I lack
And the tears of my long lost self turns into poems
That I try not write to please them
From now on I'll choose my words wisely
Because I finally understand what they are meant to be.