Weird. Me.


Musings, Poems / Thursday, September 30th, 2010

They call me weird.

Freak.

Crazy.

They call me mad.
They call me weird because I talk
like the truth is not mine to hide.

They call me freak because I say
I value my self just as much as you

They call me crazy because I mean
what I say and do as I say.
They call me mad because I think
that I give  more than I ask.
They call me weird freak crazy mad
Because I can’t use you
Because I can’t lie to you
Because I can’t cover your flaws
Because I can’t love a pretence
Because I can’t be normal stick this pin and call me weird freak crazy mad.
Because you see I just plain like it.

To think that the spectre you see is an illusion does not rob him of his terrors: it simply adds the further terror of madness itself — and then on top of that the horrible surmise that those whom the rest call mad have, all along, been the only people who see the world as it really is -CS Lewis.

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