I'm not so great under pressure
That isn't life threatening.
And I'm not overtly funny,
Or good at acting,
And I can't sing a **** thing.

But I have some music in my heart,
That can sometimes be expressed through words
And food that tastes pretty alright if you ask me.

And I know things most people don't,
Though I don't know things most people should,
And I'm not great at things like math
Or science,
But I like science,
And math proofs are pretty cool to read too.

My train of thought is run by color,
And the ever changing varieties that appear
And are caused my sound and noise.
Like plates shattering is a translucent blue,
And knives on ceramic are yellow.

The word liar is
Light brown, yellow, pink and orange,
And the word love
Is light brown, green, yellow, and red.
Like a sunset over a forest.
The word forest is brown and blue with a hint of white.

I see the world as ever changing,
Ever turning,
But one thing,
Color,
Will always remain the same.

Bright and vibrant,
And it touches my spirit and my circulation,
Driving me from fiery to ice cold.

I see the vibrant blue of the sky,
And the soft pastel of a budding leaf,
And laugh at the orange of a sunset,
And the red of the sun.

Because nothing compares to the beauty I find
In a Bluebird I call mine.

And to know that random facts
About things that aren't necessarily important
Don't seem to bother
Someone important,
Settles the storm within my soul
Like no other.