When I am described

Average is a common word

Just another person

Just another face in the crowd

Just… Me.

But aren’t I?

Me: The only true word to describe myself

I am me

But I try not to be

When they stare or laugh

There is no one I’d rather be less

Than me

I hear their voices talking

About that dreaded person

Me

But the voices aren’t real, in my head

And still...

But I’m just like you

Or at least close enough

But to anyone else

Just being myself

A sin, a crime

But at the same time

They couldn’t care less

Just me, just another lost soul in this messed up place

Looking for love, receiving none

Caring to a fault

But, that isn’t me

It couldn’t be!

Not for what they see

A character, an extra

Seen, not heard

With no explanation

As to why he’s there, or who he is

Ordinary in every way

Slightly above average at best

But, I lower my gaze

My time alone has ended

No more out loud thoughts of dejected rejection

I shut my mouth, bow my head

I need my rest

After what wasn't said…

I, am Me

The average schmo, I’d rather not be