I stare blankly, sitting like a stone.
People are around me but I am alone.
They are one with others, I am one with myself,
By my thoughts and silence they are repelled.
I can't find anyone who feels like me,
Because I am different to some degree.
I think with my heart and feel with my mind,
Does that make me one of a kind?
My voice is scarce in their presence,
But my thoughts deafen me in their absence.
Does it scare them when I say no words?
Do I need to talk much for us to work?
I ponder on ideas quietly,
So that later I'd write them privately.
I'd hide them so no one would know,
And I'd appreciate them on my own.
I see minds all around, just none like mine.
For now I'll hope that I'm not right.
To be alone for a while is quite alright,
But fulfillment to me is finding someone alike.