They all say they want to talk about something deep.
They all say they want to open up their minds,
go further than regular minds can think.

Then when they get the chance to open up they run and hide
Or they serpentine past all the things
that might have made them change
and they just go by living off the saying that they "tried."

They think they know what they want but they aren't a poet.
They aren't here in the deepest parts of the ocean.
Their minds don't drift on the wind and hear the song it whispers.
They can't feel this emotion.

It's no one's fault.
It must just be a gift at birth,
But they aren't here to unearth
the things that swirl around their hearts or
the ships that sail on their devotions.

They can barely taste the drops that drench their souls
Because they simply just don't know.

I guess that's why we're here
To write and to feel
all that they can't muster
and even though I get flustered
I just don't belong to the world
Where a feeling can be explained as
Simple.