A child who once wasn't happy
one to wanted to be of a unique
under the illusion of society given
you will never be accepted if weak

I was the one naive of all
the small introvert in the herd
passing through many doors
as adapting knowing
I was their choice of third

I wasn't the perfect child
growing up was good enough
my family is an average born
I grew with thoughts of living
was always kind well
As to no one had told me
it should be this tough

I was one of a kind
the kind you'd be worried
though appearances
known to seem docile
my parents concerned

I might have grown hurried
as paced from other children
I was the one who realized the lies first