Hectic are the lands we know,
Everything is so fast,
The wingbeat of a hummingbird,
Is the pace we chose to go at;
Shimmering bits of knowledge,
Zipping all around me.
Information blends together,
And slaps me in the face.
Others seem not to struggle,
with these great and difficult things.
Comprehension is the foe.
This world was not made for people like me.
When the ordinary person takes one step,
I have to take five.
When they write one sentence,
I have to write an entire essay.
What is it that points are trying to get across?
What does that expression mean?
Why are people so unsurprised,
When something warm changes.
Intimidating days come so fast,
while exciting ones inch here so slow.
Long restless nights,
Followed by entire days of labor.
How can they expect us,
to sit and work for hours,
When a mind like mine was meant to wander.
This world was not made for people like me.
They say be yourself,
but how can I do that,
when the person I am,
just makes everyone nervous.
Accepting the fact,
Change really is a long shot.
I'll just have to adjust,
To make myself seem normal.
But it's okay!
I can hide it under layers,
Of carefully composed looks.
I'm used to it, you know
Stuffing it all into a delicate little bottle.
It doesn't crack but hardly ever,
And when it does, it's not that bad.
I can just attribute the meltdown to a poor day.
These extra steps, they're exhausting,
But I'm expected to perform at the same level,
I know I keep saying it,
but this world was not made for people like me.
YOU ARE READING
Reminiscent: A Collection
Short StoryHi, I'm a writer that tends to work on bigger writing projects, but occasionally I get little things out. This is a place for me to share those little tidbits of writing and I also tend to share the scripts for my speeches too. I hope you enjoy thes...
