I am different, unreal.
I wonder why the world is so unknown.
I hear voices yelling, ordering, telling but never knowing.
I want to see whats really there.
I am different, unreal.
I pretend to know what they mean.
I feel unsure, terrified at the monsters behind the unopened doors.
I touch the sky feeling it brush my finger tips.
I worry that all will be gone when my time comes.
I cry as I start to know the truth.
I am different, unreal.
I understand the stories of those who are hurt.
I say the things that tell me different.
I dream of empty halls and black doors.
I try to see through the fog looking for the brittle mirror that makes me.
I hope to touch its cool glass of success.
I am different, unreal.
