Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who’s sane,
And maybe stating this is all in vain.
I look around at my peers, and I swear we aren’t the same.
Completely different faces and completely different names.
It’s not a profound declaration,
Or a shoddy improvisation,
And no amount of medication,
Could treat this impersonation.
Too much noise leads to vice.
That’s not even complicated advice.
If you leave people to their own devices,
You’ll find,
That’d we’d be better off leaving them all behind.
When they’re taken away,
You’re left with the glitchiness that remains,
Spouting the funniest thing,
That they heard in every sentence they say.
Perhaps I’m just an alien,
In an atmosphere I don’t belong.
A tree receiving acid rain,
A singer without a song.
I start questioning.
Does anybody think?
Or do they say whatever thoughts enter their brain?
Or if they do,
How many filters do they put their words through?
Are there harsh words I haven’t heard,
Because someone thought it’d be absurd?
Sometimes, it seems as if I’m the only one who’s sane,
But I know my thoughts, sometimes, can be rather deranged.
From fruitless worrying to self-deprecation without blame,
Perhaps, all of us are a tad insane.
School, I find, can be comparable to an insane asylum.
