They never trusted him with their secrets
Though he was always known to be reliable.
They talked but shared nothing with him
Probably because he shared nothing either.
His life had never been eventful as theirs.

If he did talk, he would only come out awkward.
No one wanted his nerdy theories, nor his feelings.
They saved him a seat while they discussed.
His intellectual **** just drowned in their garbage.
They were all too polite that they ****** him off daily.

He had conservative parents, and self-doubt.
He was always shown the path to walk
And was taught that thinking is useless.
He watched Bill Hicks all day and wondered
How he escaped crucifixion.

He grew up so studious and religious
That it took him a while to figure out things.
The smart ones took him to be a bit slow.
The others were sure he was getting mad.
Soon enough, he was in love with rebellion.

He would come back to see old friends
And find that he was the only one who cared.
He would listen to Grace Slick yelling all day
And know that he must find somebody to love.
He became another tired, self-pitying *****.

He started accepting the world the way it is
Though it would never accept him.
He would want to explode once in a while
And tell them all what's wrong with them.
Instead, he kept writing his bad poems.