She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
she's been force-fed lies by those who despise her differences:
because her interests are not the same as theirs and the air
that she breathes somehow robs her of her sense of purpose;
she feels worthless by the curse words that people fire her way
like a birthday cake at a wake, she says these gems leak liquid
as if being gifted was the plague she lays awake afraid of the night-
because in the night, the nightmares seem to follow her.
She feels little, belittled by people who go out of their way
to make her in their way, she is the bullseye in plain sight,
so in daylight; her smile becomes concave downwards;
the cowards seem to know how to always overpower her,
and like a sour burp; she is a clear warning of what may occur.
She walks pass so many houses everyday; unique in their own way,
but it is all for display because the families inside aren't always sunshine
and roses.
She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
I say they light up more than she could ever notice,
because feeling broken occurred more than mending
and like sending a letter, she awaits on a pending paper
so that the pen and paper could cure her of the blues.
She says the gems that have become her eyes doesn't shine,
but oh how divine they are, if only they weren't coated in tears,
she'd be able to hear how much her eyes sparkle and glisten.
[Ohhh tragic: the twisted world we live in....
and with the life I am given, I will make sure she knows her eyes- they shine.]