*Note: this is something I wrote beforehand, I don't feel so anymore, yet I found this one interesting.
Carbon Monoxide; you can't smell it, but it's there.
Uranium; it's highly productive but toxic.
Copper; it's always either bronze or green.
Either way; I'm here but I'm not.
I wanna talk with them but instead I'm left alone to rot.
I'm a Cancer; don't mistake me for a dancer.
I'm a Mediator, but even I need remediation.
All I've wanted is to not feel so empty and lonely.
Yet I don't understand why I feel so stonely.
I guess I'm just a third wheel in a sea of people;
But why is it I feel so feeble?
I walk in a straight line devoid of emotion;
Wondering why there isn't a commotion.
It's realizations that I had to make;
But to acknowledge them I need to be awake.
So as I get out my sword and shield;
A lunge I expect will make my problems yield.
But with a gilded axe and a heavy mace;
There I fall, back into my brace.
My body feels sore, my mind feels numb;
"Maybe I really am just dumb."
I'm an overwriting, attention-seeking tryhard;
Maybe it's time I'm discard.
Relieve my nescience will ya?
Relive the fact that I'm a pariah.