Here I am, looking out, are they looking in?
Is my past a factor? Does it matter where I've been?
Though, times are dark, I can't help but grin
At the perdicament I'm in, it's like a sort of sin

What I see with my eyes, the view that I gain
Is the brightness of hope, somewhere to stay out the rain
The smartest part of my brain has only suffered from pain
Just to reach this point, this opportunity in my lane.

I'm the one looking out, but what do they see?
If I say my sight is great, would anyone else agree?
Is my answer locked away? Am I in need of a key?
So many questions need answers, just from a sight that I see.

What do I look like in my box from the view outside?
Is it enough to accept, or must I continue to hide?
Is it a basic opinion, or is it one amplified?
Even with the worst opinion, I can be proud that I tried.

I've seen spiders that weave, lions that can hunt,
Cheetahs that can run, and birds that can fly.
I've seen bears hibernate, I've seen dogs that can bark,
But me as a human, the most I can do is try.

Onomatopoeia or illiteration
It's the power of words that require concentration
Power comes with the patience of being the next patient
Then the world rewards you with a present so gracious,
It's astounding, the vacant basement of an agent
That's stationed adjacent to the order, his placement's spacious
The information he holds, can be the one inspiration
That gives the motivation, the agent's true dedication.
I've come to realization the education is in relation
To the situation that laments, causes the hesitation
holding back the potential of an aspiring conversation
To spread the word of the chaser that runs from his nation
It's amazing the blazing trail that's left him as he's raising
the intuition inspiring the talent of the agent
His talent brings amazement, bringing him to his placement
in this world, and all the words places leaving you phased.

The moral here? The agent is you, and only your talent is as good as you make it.