Alone they are
Alone thy is
But only to your eyes
For they are not sobbing
They are happy cries
You see they have no people
Bowing at their feet
That's because their fans are ones you'll never meet
They listen to their hearts
Not their phone home screens
They don't whisper opinions
No those they like to scream
They do not stay quiet underneath the fog
But they scream out their thoughts all day long
These people that we criticize for being their own self
Are just different books
On opposite shelfs
This is a poem about my friends and me and the way we think and the way other people see us.